


Champagne From a Paper Cup

by ArchOfImagine, hufflecas



Series: Tiny Lessons [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Kid Fic, M/M, Sam is 16, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking, and then 19, daddy!castiel, daddy!dean, top and bottom roles will be clearly stated at the top of each sex chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3040496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflecas/pseuds/hufflecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester is sixteen... and according to his brother, he should be embracing his popularity and going after all of the chicks that are into him. </p><p>But he's been down that road before. And it wasn't exactly earth shattering. But if those girls aren't what he wants, then what exactly <i>does</i> he want?</p><p>The answer is Billy McKenna.</p><p>(A/N: Because of previous characterizations in Tiny Vessels... I couldn't use the name Gabriel. Hence: Billy McKenna. So this is essentially Sam/Gabriel, just using a new name.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wonderful readers that haven't read [Tiny Vessels](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2526044/chapters/5613683) \- Billy McKenna is essentially Gabriel. Unfortunately when writing TV, I made the mistake of giving a separate character the name Gabby/Gabrielle and when I decided the story needed a trickster, I had to give him a new moniker. 
> 
> For those of you that did read TV: Welcome to the sequel. In attempting to write something else, I realized how much I sincerely missed this universe and decided to jump back into it. Yes: this story will have a heavy focus on Sam and Billy. No: that does not mean that Dean and Cas won't potentially have a big storyline down the road. At this point - I have no idea.
> 
> Please enjoy. And as always, special thanks to [hufflecas](http://hufflecas.tumblr.com) for betaing.
> 
> Also: the song title is once again from a Death Cab for Cutie song. I've chosen it because I've previously used it for a different story in another fandom and I have a lot of love for it and the sense of young rebellion that the title portrays.

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll ditch your friends for him._

\---

At some point in the last seven months, his brother had turned into a housewife and stay-at-home mom.

Even though Sam had sat back and watched it happen, he still wasn’t sure about how _had happened_. One minute Dean was moving back from Southern California as a grumpy asshole and the next he was moving into the house next door with a _guy_ and two kids.

Granted, the kids were awesome and the guy was also pretty great, but it was still weird for Sam to get used to. Of course, once Boston started calling Dean ‘papa’ two months after their arrival in Kansas, Castiel and the kids became unofficial family members. 

So… Sam was an uncle. A damn good one, too.

“Faster! Faster!”

Laughing, Sam held on tight to Boston as he drove the lawn mower just a little bit faster. The blade was up and at that point they weren’t so much doing yard work — mostly just were wasting gas. But Bo loved sitting on his lap while they drove at breakneck speeds of 5 miles per hour around Dean and Cas’ backyard.

Seeing Dean on the back porch — Brooklyn nestled against his hip and a disapproving look on his face — Sam almost felt like he was staring at his mother. He slowed the mower before finally killing the engine and looking up at Dean. “Problem?”

“Papa, I drove!”

“I saw that, Bo. Now come inside and wash up. It’s almost naptime,” Dean called.

Boston immediately tried to protest, but Sam cut off his words by tickling his sides. “Now now. You’d better nap — I don’t want any cranky babies coming to my birthday party.”

“I’m _not_ a baby,” Boston protested, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

Sam flicked his lip gently with his thumb. “Uh huh, sure.” With another smile, he placed the boy back on the ground and pointed him in the direction of the porch stairs. “Go on now.”

Once Boston was in the house, Dean covered Brooklyn’s ears with his hands and yelled out across the yard. “You better fix those fucking ruts you made in my yard, little brother!”

“On it.” He waved Dean off and turned the mower back on so that he could finish the job.

\---

Winchester birthday parties were a sight to be seen. A few months prior at Dean’s twentieth birthday party, the cops had been called… _twice_.

Sam was expecting much of the same thing for his sixteenth birthday party. Especially considering the large tent set up in his mom’s backyard and the endless supply of food that he had watched being prepared. His whole football team was invited, along with probably thirty other students from the high school. And then there was family on top of that and… the party was going to be a mess. 

He was excited about the whole thing, but not as excited as he was at the prospect of getting his driver’s license the following Monday. He had driven up and down their country back road so many times that he could practically do it with his eyes closed. He was _ready_.

“Sammy! Hurry up! You’ve got twenty minutes before people start showing up.”

Hearing his mother’s voice from beyond the bathroom door, he called out a quick affirmative response before leaning towards the mirror and focusing on shaving. 

Once he was finished cleaning up, he walked from the bathroom back into his bedroom and smiled at the new forest green button-up his mom had laid on his bed. She always got him a new shirt on his birthday. It went well with his dark wash blue jeans, and he hesitated for only a moment before rolling the sleeves of the shirt up to his elbows. It was May in Kansas — long sleeves would kill him after thirty minutes out back.

His boots were an old pair that Dean had passed down, the same as his watch. After he finished getting ready, he stepped out of his room and quickly walked downstairs and into the kitchen where his mother was commanding the room like an army general.

“How do I look?” he asked, gaining her attention.

Mary turned to him, staring for a moment as she brought a hand to cover her mouth. “Oh my baby! When did you grow up?”

Even at sixteen, he knew better than to dissuade his mother from hugging him in front of other people. You didn’t turn Mary Winchester away when she wanted a hug. He secretly like it, but hell if he was going to admit that. “Mom, please —”

She kissed his cheek before finally pulling away. “So, any lucky ladies going to be here tonight?”

Sam frowned immediately at the thought. There would be plenty of cute girls there that evening — including Sarah, who had been vying for his attention for two years. But thinking about girls and dating brought up all of the usual questions in his mind that revolved around those topics.

He had tried it. He had spent six months dating a girl named Jessica the year before. It had felt like dating his little sister…

And he had no idea what that meant.

\---

Midway through the party, Sam stood along the edge of the tent and found himself observing a little more than participating. He had done the respectful thing of chatting with everyone in attendance before finding a quiet spot to enjoy a slice of cake and a glass of punch.

His gaze drifted across the tent and landed on Dean and Cas. He laughed at the way they were seated at one of the tables and snuggling a little _too_ close together. They weren’t fooling anyone, but Sam was quite certain they weren’t trying. He wondered where the kids were, but only had to think about it for a moment before he noticed his mom holding onto Brooke with Bo wrapped around her legs. 

Sam snorted. Despite the fact that Mary hated being called ‘grandma’ and insisted on ‘GG’ — which no one quite understood but Boston didn’t care — she had effortlessly taken on the role of being the kids’ grandmother. She spoiled them rotten and had them over at the house constantly. 

“Hey, there’s the birthday boy.”

His thoughts were cut off by the words. Looking to his right he noticed a somewhat familiar face walking closer. “Yeah. Billy, right?” He had never officially met the other man before, but had heard more than a few stories from Dean. Even though Dean had mentioned Billy’s ‘eccentric’ taste in clothing, that didn’t prepare Sam for the sight before him. 

Billy wore a brown suede dinner jacket over a pink and white striped button down shirt. Which went _amazingly well_ with the bright blue plaid kilt he was also wearing. Sam might have found himself staring at the atrocious ensemble.

Probably because… for some reason it _worked_ on Billy.

“Right-o, Sammy boy. Happy Birthday, sweet cheeks. I hope you don’t mind me crashing your party.”

Sam shrugged, looking back towards the crowd of happy party-goers. “More the merrier.”

“Shouldn’t you be out there? The way Dean describes you I didn’t imagine you’d be much of a wallflower.”

Everyone always expected that. How could a popular and smart captain of the football team secretly be an introvert that had to escape a crowd after barely thirty minutes? Another shrug and he looked back at Billy. “Just taking a breath while I enjoy my cake.”

Billy smiled and Sam couldn’t help but notice the way his golden eyes twinkled when he did. _Impressive._

“What did you wish for, Sam?”

He remembered the moment he had blown out the candles on his cake and felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. He coughed and took a quick sip of his punch. “I, uh… world peace.”

Billy smirked like he knew Sam’s thoughts, but didn’t question his answer. Instead, he pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and held it out. “Here. Dean wasn’t real helpful on what you liked, so I decided money would probably be the easiest gift. Happy Birthday, kid.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied, tucking the envelope into his own pocket. He watched Billy smile and walk away, before his brother was sliding up beside him from out of nowhere. “Whoa, Dean.”

“Making friends?” Dean asked, watching Billy’s retreat.

“Yeah. You were right — Billy’s pretty cool.”

“That he is. He’s also gay and willing to hit on anything that breathes — so beware. For someone like Billy, it won’t register that you’re straight and underage and he’ll just lead you down a bad path.”

Sam rolled his eyes. Leave it to his brother to assume a perfectly innocent conversation required a warning label. “We were just talking, Dean.”

“Why don’t you just ‘talk’ with that pretty brunette Sarah that has had her eye on you all night? Seriously, she even tried to get _me_ to hook you two up. Like I have any say in your love life.”

The contradicting statements that were rolling off of Dean’s tongue were almost enough to make Sam’s head spin. He looked across to where Sarah stood nonchalantly watching them. She was pretty, no one would argue that, but that fact didn’t make Sam want her. Neither did her nagging or constant pressuring. To her, he was nothing more than a popularity symbol that would move her up the social food chain. 

“Yeah. Sure. I’m going to go grab a breath of fresh air and then I’ll lay my best moves on her. That work for you?”

Dean happily slapped his shoulder. “Atta boy!”

\---

Hiding was probably the most appropriate word for what Sam was doing at that moment.

The fact was there was absolutely _no reason_ for him to be exploring the fields beyond their barn. But anything that would get him away from the crowds, his brother, and Sarah seemed like the best idea in the world.

He walked to the old oak tree and sat down against the base of it, making sure to turn so that he could watch the tent and house in the distance and spy on the last of his guests as they left.

Five minutes after his escape, he watched a lone figured follow his path in the moonlight. At first he couldn’t tell who the person was — and then the soft sashay of a skirt turned out to be the gentle movements of a kilt. 

Billy settled down into the dirt next to him and pulled a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. The tip of the cigarette glowed in the darkness as Billy took a couple of slow drags from it. Finally, he held it out to Sam. “You want?”

Sam had never smoked before. Had never even been around people that smoked… so he had no idea what inclined him to take the cigarette from Billy’s hand.

Maybe he was trying to look cool. Maybe he felt the sudden desire to _impress_ his new friend.

He took a long, slow drag… and quickly erupted in a coughing fit.

Billy’s laugh was like smooth honey. Just like his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll compare your relationship to other relationships._

\---

Despite the shiny new driver’s license in his pocket, Sam still didn’t have a car of his own that allowed for driving to and from school. Thankfully, he had gotten used to the idea of riding his bike the five miles from the school to his house. It was the perfect workout, and the perfect stress reliever after a long day of studying.

On that particular Wednesday afternoon, he was halfway home when he stopped short. Their small town had two motels, and right there — walking out of the nicer of the two — was Billy McKenna. 

He could almost hear Dean’s voice in his head, telling him to keep going. _’Don’t stop, Sammy. Billy is bad news.’_

Ignoring his brother, Sam pedaled his bike to the spot where Billy was leaning against an old beat up Camaro and smoking a cigarette. “Hey,” he said, loud enough not to startle the other man. “You’re still in town.”

“Nice observational skills, Hoss.” Billy’s eyes skimmed over him quickly. “School out?”

Sam shifted his backpack and held the bike steady between his legs as he planted his feet and stood. “Yeah. How long are you staying?”

He watched as Billy gave the motel a disdainful look and took another drag off of the cigarette. “In this dump? Hopefully no more than a week. In town? Don’t know yet. Cas and I are looking into starting a business.”

“Oh.” Sam nodded. “Dean didn’t mention that.”

“We’re essentially moving his writing company here from Los Angeles. I think the honeymoon phase is starting to dwindle and Cas is ready to have an office to go to during the day.”

“Why aren’t you staying with them?”

“With the sex-crazed lovers and two screaming rugrats? No thanks. I love them all, but I enjoy my peace and quiet.” Billy motioned towards the nearest motel room door with his head as he flicked his cigarette to the ground and drug his shoe over it. “Plus, it’s hard to have company over when shacking up with the in-laws.”

It spoke to Sam’s inexperience that it took him a few beats to realize what Billy meant by _company._ He looked at the door with wide eyes. He was such a fucking _idiot._ There he was, talking to Billy and continuing to try and impress him, when BIlly had a fucking guy in his room at that very moment! Where the hell did he even _find_ gay men in the middle of Bumfuck, Kansas? 

Okay, not the best name.

_Why do I care?_ Sam wondered. He shook his head and settled back onto his bike seat. “Better get home before Mom worries. Later, Billy.”

\---

“Your dick is fantastic.”

Sam’s head fell back against the pillow as he groaned. “Your _mouth_ is fantastic.”

Lips swollen from a few too many kisses wrapped back around his cock, drawing slowly up and down the length until he felt like his whole body was shaking from pent up need. He shifted his hips, pressing just _thatmuchdeeper_ into the warm slick heat. 

“Please,” he begged. 

His fists curled into the sheets to keep from gripping onto shaggy waves and forcing too much too soon.

“Mmm.” 

Sam heard soft slurping noise and felt the slightest drag of teeth and fought to open his eyes and lift his head just so he could _watch_... just for a moment. He met honey golden brown eyes and gasped, almost losing it at just the look in that gaze. “Oh God, Billy. Suck my cock.”

The mouth pulled away with a distinct ‘pop’ and Sam groaned.

“Who the fuck is Billy?”

_Oh. Shit._

His eyes flew open again and he looked down his body once more. Golden eyes were suddenly a glaring shade of blue and _fuck_ had he lost his fucking mind? _God. Damn. It._ “Sarah —”

“I offer to go down on you and you’re dreaming about someone named _Billy?_ ” She slapped his thigh angrily as she stood. “No fucking wonder you didn’t touch my boobs once! You’re a fucking homo just like your brother, aren’t you? Oh my God wait until the girls hear this shit!”

He was so shocked, that all he could do was lay there as he watched her gather her things and storm out of his bedroom. 

Running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, he tried to figure out exactly what had gone wrong. One second he was taking a chance and making out with Sarah — the next, he was envisioning _Billy_ giving him a blowjob instead of Sarah.

_’You’re a fucking homo just like your brother...’_

He felt his gut clench as he stared up at the ceiling. 

Sam knew that his brother wasn’t gay. He had seen Dean with enough women to know that fact was virtually impossible. That Dean was currently living with and in love with a man, just meant that he was somewhere in the middle of the road when it came to sexuality.

Unfortunately, Sam wasn’t sure that the same could be said for himself. Because Sarah was right… her breasts and feminine features had done nothing for him.

\---

Dean enjoyed fatherhood on every day except Sunday. On Sunday morning it was his routine to sleep in until ten or eleven and then wake up and have brunch before watching football.

Keyword being _was._

Toddlers and ten-month-olds did not sleep past eight in the morning… _ever_. And even when Castiel tried to be nice and wake up early to entertain and feed the kids, something inevitably had them running into the master suite to wake up Dean. _Daddy burnt the pancakes._ Or, _Sister is running around outside naked._

Dean carried Boston back downstairs, not even bothering to dress in more than the lounge pants he’d been sleeping in, and poured a cup of coffee as he watched Castiel chasing a naked Brooklyn through the window. Good thing their house was somewhat in the middle of nowhere.

“I think we need a vacation, Bo,” he mused. 

Boston climbed up to his spot at the kitchen table and picked at the plate of food that remained there from breakfast. “We should go on an airplane.”

“Agreed. Where to?” Dean watched Castiel finally catch Brooke, and turned to face Bo. “I think the beach. You think the beach would be a good idea?”

“I like the beach.”

The back door opened and Castiel walked inside with Brooke wiggling in his arms. She was redressed in a diaper and onesie so Castiel set her on the floor to go play. Once he had, he looked up at Dean with sorrow in his eyes. “Sorry.”

Dean shrugged, taking another drink from his coffee cup. “Bo and I were discussing vacation venues. We think it’s well deserved.”

Castiel moved across the floor and wrapped his arms around Dean’s bare waist before dropping a smattering of kisses along his shoulder. “You two are completely right. But I think it should maybe be an extended family vacation.” His lips traveled up to brush along Dean’s cheek. “That way we can bring along some built in babysitters. And I’m sure your mom and brother and Billy might like to get away for a week or so.”

The thought settled into Dean’s mind and he quickly smiled. The ideas that flowed freely at the thought of going on vacation with _babysitters_ were tantalizing. “You’re brilliant.”

“Mmm. I know.”

“Humble too.”

Castiel pinched Dean’s ass. “Go put clothes on so we can plan this brilliance.”

\---

Since they didn’t want to wait long enough for everyone to have current passports, they decided on flying to Key West and enjoying the warm Florida weather and beautiful beaches.

Their trip was scheduled to be ten days at an all inclusive resort — despite Dean’s arguments that a family vacation didn’t need to be that expensive. He didn’t want Castiel to think he was getting used to the good life. Because he _wasn’t_. Even with Castiel’s money and the lack of bills, he was still taking online courses for his Bachelor’s degree. He intended to one day make a contribution to their family.

Standing in the Kansas City airport, he held on tight to Brooklyn and gave his mom a sad smile. “It sucks that you have to stay behind. I mean, seriously — those families couldn’t find another option for daycare for one week?”

“Now, Dean, you should know how hard that is by now. And besides, you guys are going to have a blast and don’t need me messing with the age demographic.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Not to mention the fact that not even a vacation on the beach can convince me to get on a plane.”

He laughed, trying to ignore the butterflies in his own stomach at the thought of flying again. He was confident that Brooklyn would keep him busy enough to forget about it. “Well thanks for letting Sammy come. I promise I’ll keep a close eye on him.” Dean winked at his mother. “I won’t let him sneak any girls into his room.”

From a few feet to Dean’s left, Sam let out an exasperated huff. “I’m standing right here.”

\---

Sam let his mother kiss him goodbye, before waving as he turned to follow the others through airport security. Up ahead, he watched as Billy walked through the scanner before picking his bag back up.

Not for the first time, since the idea had been posed, Sam realized that he was about to spend ten very _long_ days sharing a room with Billy McKenna.

The same Billy McKenna that had haunted every wet dream Sam’s imagination had come up with in the last two weeks.

He was not going to survive. What if he moaned Billy’s name in his sleep? The guy would not want some teenager fantasizing about him! And what if Billy — heaven forbid — _met someone else?_

And why the fuck did any of it matter? Why did Billy matter?

The TSA agent called for him to step forward, and he laughed as another randomly stupid thought passed through his mind.

_I wish this scanner could tell me if I’m gay or not._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good portion of this chapter was co-written by the lovely [hufflecas.](http://hufflecas.tumblr.com)

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll give up things for him._

\---

To make traveling with the kids easier, Castiel booked a non-stop flight from Kansas City to Miami. They arrived in just over three hours and were greeted at the airport by a car service that drove them to the hotel. Once they arrived and checked in, Sam was pulled aside by Dean.

“This isn’t my first choice in accommodation arrangements, got it? But Billy will at least make sure that you don’t get into trouble.”

He rolled his eyes at his brother’s serious tone. Thankfully, Castiel walked back over with the room cards and placed them in Sam’s hand. 

Since it was already mid afternoon and the kids were getting grumpy from lack of sleep, everyone decided to take naps and relax for a few hours before meeting back for dinner. 

“Uh, we’re in room 324,” Sam said to Billy.

“Sounds good, kiddo,” came the reply. “Lead the way.”

Sam tried his best to not think about Billy’s eyes on his back. It was nearly impossible to not look like a complete dork while dragging a huge clunky wheeled suitcase behind him, especially when the wheels kept catching on the edges of carpets. A few twists and turns of the hallway later they reached their room. Sam finally got the door to unlock on the third try. He was almost beyond mortified, but Billy didn’t seem to notice. It wasn’t until they were hauling their bags up to their respective beds that it hit Sam. _Dean and Cas were on the other side of the hotel._

“Not bad, hey?” Billy’s conversational tone startled Sam out of his thoughts.

“Uh, what?”

Billy laughed, but there was nothing mean or teasing about it. “The room, Samsquatch. It’s a helluva lot nicer than where I’ve been staying, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.” The room was bright and airy, with what appeared to be a full bathroom opening off one side. There were two queen-sized beds next to each other. Sam took a deep breath. He could do this. He could survive ten days in close quarters with someone he’d fantasized about. He could. 

He watched as Billy laid his suitcase onto one of the beds before pulling it open. “Did you see all the hot guys downstairs, Sammy? I say we skip the naptime and take a cruise by the pool.”

Sam just about dropped his suitcase on his foot. Lifting it onto his own bed, he fumbled with the latch while he struggled to find words that wouldn’t make him seem like a complete spaz. “I, um, uh, just —” He failed.

“Or girls. Whatever floats your boat, sugar pie.” Billy pulled a pair of tight swim shorts from his bag that were a hideous color blend of green and orange. Once he laid them out, he began stripping from his current outfit - without any regard for the fact that Sam still stood there.

Sam’s immediate instinct was to turn his back, or even flee the room. But he told himself how silly that was. He’d been in locker rooms with his teammates a thousand times and never had a problem before. This was different, somehow. But Billy didn’t know that. So Sam tried to convince himself that Billy undressing had no effect on him. That he didn’t even notice it. He turned his attention on his suitcase, which he couldn’t get open for the life of him. 

Billy’s pants hit the floor and he bent forward to slowly pull his shorts on. “I hope we aren’t subjected to seafood the whole vacation. I went with Cas and Gabby to Hawaii once and he ate so much crab I thought he’d start growing them in his pants.”

Sam burst out laughing before he could stop himself, but why would he? Sam hadn’t really noticed before, but Billy was a funny guy. He finally got the lock on his suitcase open, and unzipped the case as he looked in Billy’s direction to reply. Or, rather, Billy’s very naked and very exposed backside.

“We should convince them to let us order pizza one night.” Billy slid his swim trunks up his legs and turned to face Sam as he reached into the front of the shorts and adjusted his cock. “I’d kill for some good pizza.”

 _That sounds great, I love pizza,_ was what Sam had meant to say. What Sam actually said was something closer to a squeak, followed by the word, “Yeeeeah…” He cleared his throat, and suddenly decided the contents of his bag was infinitely interesting.

Once dressed, Billy sat down on his bed and motioned to Sam. “Come on, Madonna, you’re taking forever to change.”

That snapped Sam back to reality. He found his swim trunks, turned his back as nonchalantly as he could, and stripped. _Just like the locker room, just like the locker room,_ he silently chanted to himself. He dared not look over his shoulder to see if Billy was watching him. Trunks on, he tossed his other clothes on his bed. “Alright, let’s go.”

Billy stood, walking around Sam and tapping the large mirror that was on the wall facing the beds. “You have a very nice penis, Sam,” he said with a smirk. He picked up the room keycard and held it out to Sam. “Wanna tuck that in your pocket?”

Sam resigned himself to what was probably a pretty epic blush, and took the proffered card. “Uh, thanks.”

They rode the elevator downstairs and walked out to the courtyard where the crystal blue waters of the hotel pool were located. Instead of going for the water, Billy moved to the poolside bar to have a conversation with the bartender. Once he had a couple drinks in hand, he made his way back to where Sam was sitting in one of the plastic pool chairs. “Here.” He held out a blue frozen concoction with a straw and tiny umbrella sticking out of the top. “Virgin _something_.”

Sam took the drink from him, and took a sip. It was sugary, cold, and refreshing. So refreshing that he drank too much too fast. There was no hiding the grimace of brain freeze when it crossed his face a few moments later.

Billy relaxed back in his chair and sipped at his own drink. “So what do you spy so far, kid? Any good prospects for sexy times?”

Sam scanned around the pool, grateful for a task that would allow him a few moments to think before he was required to come up with words that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete child. The pool wasn’t particularly busy, but it wasn’t deserted either. There was a young man, possibly early twenties, all tan skin and lean muscles, doing laps. Sam could see his face only when he tilted his head up for air, but he figured it was a safe bet that he was easy on the eyes all over. “What about over there, doing laps?”

Following Sam’s direction, Billy watched the water for a few long moments before nodding his head. “Good choice. I dated a swimmer once in high school. He was fantastic but the body hair thing kind of weirded me out.” He looked back and Sam and smirked. “They don’t call it a _happy trail_ for nothin’.” 

Another blush and Sam realized that Billy had apparently seen _all_ of the body hair that Sam had on his body. That was equal parts scary and exciting. And left him scanning the pool area once more instead of trying to find a reply. 

“Oh, look over here, Sammy boy.” Billy pointed across the courtyard to the other side of the hotel building. Stepping out from fancy glass doors was a blonde wearing a bikini and large designer sunglasses. “She looks to be about your age.”

Sam watched the girl walk towards the pool and felt his stomach sinking a bit. The girl was indeed around his age and very pretty. But despite her good looks, there was nothing there that caused a spark inside of him. “Yeah. She looks nice.”

Billy was quiet for a long moment, before he looked over to study Sam. Another few drinks from his glass and then, “Have you told anyone yet?”

“I, uh—” He looked up at Billy in confusion. “What?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t. I saw the way your brother was trying to hook you up with that brunette at your birthday party. And even today at the airport, he kept pointing out girls and nudging your shoulder like he knew some big secret.” Billy snorted, eyes moving back to watch the hot swimmer. “Oh, if only he knew the real secret.”

“I don’t understand,” Sam whispered, feeling like he was a step behind in the conversation.

“I’m not going to judge you, Sam. That would be pretty fucking hypocritical. In fact — if your brother judges you, he’s also a hypocrite.” Billy met Sam’s gaze and smiled. “Don’t throw stones in glass houses and all that jazz.”

“What the… _fudge_ are you talking about?”

“Your sexuality, Sam. The fact that you’re gay. Have you told anyone?” A rush of emotions ran over Sam’s face and Billy watched it all play out before frowning. “Oh. I see. You haven’t even told yourself, it seems.”

It dawned on Sam, finally, what Billy was talking about. And then a moment later, he realized that Billy had made the assumption from an outside perspective — something that Sam had never had before. No one back in Kansas had ever looked at him and his everyday actions and said ‘Oh, he’s gay’... so how was he honestly supposed to know if he was or not? Every time he read up on it on the internet, the people talked about knowing from an extremely young age.

It wasn’t like that for Sam. He had just assumed that liking girls would come ‘eventually’. Like when a parent tells a kindergartner that little boys and little girls won’t always be enemies. 

Either _eventually_ was late, or Billy was right and Sam was indeed… _gay._

There must have been sheer panic written all over his face, because Billy reached out a hand and laid it on Sam’s wrist. The touch was a soothing calm. “It’s okay. Being gay is fantastic — and accepting yourself is even _better._ ” Billy rubbed his thumb over Sam’s skin for a moment, before finally pulling his hand away. “So. Any guys sparking your fire?”

_Just one._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, happily co-written with my favorite hufflepuff.

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll ignore warning signs that he sucks._

\---

Eating dinner with children was kind of like being ringmaster for the traveling circus. At any given moment there were at least three food items playing trapeze over the table. And taking away a fork that was way too dangerous for a 10-month-old to be playing with equaled lion-like growls of anger.

Sam liked to sit back and enjoy the show. He watched as Castiel pulled Brooke from her highchair and tried to coax food into her mouth. At the same time, Dean was fighting to keep Boston from crawling under the table… or sitting completely upside down with his feet in the air. 

Billy leaned close and Sam was quickly reminded that he was sharing that side of the booth with his _waytoohot_ crush. 

“Watching this for ten seconds makes me want a vasectomy,” Billy whispered.

Sam snorted but quickly covered the noise with a cough when he felt his brother glaring. 

He was not in the mood for pissing Dean off and spending the night being lectured. “I need to use the restroom,” he said quietly, looking to Billy in hopes that he would move so Sam could slide out of the booth. 

Billy stood and held out his hands to keep Sam steady as he got up. Sam immediately shivered at the feeling of Billy’s fingers brushing along his back. He was so distracted by the touch, that when he took a few steps forwards in the direction of the bathroom he completely missed that one of the other restaurant patrons was sliding their chair back into his path. 

His foot hit one of the chairs legs, knocking him off balance and propelling him into the next table. Sam’s head hit the edge of the table and by the time his body slumped to the floor, he was out cold.

Probably a good thing — considering the direction his ankle was in and the pain such an injury would cause.

\---

“We have to go home!”

“The doctors are saying that he’ll be fine. The ankle is set and the cast is in place… and the concussion will wear off in twenty-four hours.”

“My little brother is lying unconscious in a hospital bed and you’re trying to convince me that we should _stay_ on vacation?”

“Dean, he’s not allowed on a plane with his head injury anyway. When I told the doctor about our return flight, he seemed confident that it would allow for enough time to pass to ensure the injury isn’t worse.”

“Fuck, Mom’s going to kill me.”

Sam groaned, eyes squeezed shut to fight off the pounding in his head. “Would you two shut up?” he growled. He was not in the mood to listen to his brother and Castiel arguing.

“Oh thank God, Sammy!” Dean moved to his bedside in a flash and picked up his hand. “Are you okay? You dimwit! Didn’t you see that person getting up?”

“ _Shhh_ ,” Sam whispered. He tried to blink his eyes open, but found the harsh lights made his headache worse. “Can you shut the lights off?” The lights dimmed and he was finally able to open his eyes and stare at his brother’s worried expression. “You look like snot.”

“I had to ride in an ambulance because of you, Dumbo. I’m buying you a helmet as soon as we get out of here.”

He let his eyes slip closed again as he slowly shook his head. “I don’t wanna go home yet. My clumsiness shouldn’t ruin the whole vacation.”

“We’ll see what mom says—”

“Or we could not tell her,” he offered.

Dean frowned. “Sam, we have to tell her.”

“Why? She’ll just worry. Am I dying? ‘Cause if I’m not dying we can tell her when we get home.”

“ _Fine._ But you’re spending all day tomorrow in bed!”

\---

Crutches were a pain in the ass. But pain killers were _amazing._ Sam did as instructed and spent the next twenty-four hours in bed while Dean, Castiel, and Billy fussed over him at various intervals. He didn’t remember most of it, thanks to the drugs.

By dinner time the next evening, his buzz was wearing off and he was getting restless. He glanced around the empty room and pouted. Where had everyone gone? Probably out partying without him.

Grabbing the nearby remote control, he turned the television on and flipped restlessly through the channels. He stopped on HBO and raised his eyebrows at the fact that _Real Sex_ was on in the middle of the evening. 

Sam placed the remote back down and watched the show. It was definitely not as hot as he wanted it to be. Something about the fake moans from the women made him shudder in displeasure. Fifteen minutes in and his cock didn’t even twitch. 

“That working for you?”

He jumped, throwing the remote across the room in surprise at the sound of Billy’s voice. He almost rolled off the bed in his efforts to look natural. Of course the television was still on, and some woman was still making outrageous moaning noises.

“No,” he finally managed.

Billy threw his jacket and wallet down on the dresser before carrying a box of pizza over to the small table. “Can you make it over here for food, or should I bring it to you?”

Though the thought of Billy serving him was tantalizing, Sam was tired of being stuck in the damn bed. He reached for his crutches that were resting nearby and, after a few tries, successfully made it across the room to the table. 

He collapsed into one of the chairs and took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the pizza. “How did you ditch Cas and Dean?”

Billy bit his bottom lip in concentration as he slid two slices of pizza onto a plate for Sam and made sure to get every stray piece of cheese. Once he set the plate in front of Sam, he got his own slice and sat down in the second chair. “They took the kids to the aquarium. Some kind of dinner and show special event.”

The pizza in front of him was the most tantalizing thing he had ever seen or smelled. He didn’t even like mushrooms all that much, and right then he would have eaten an entire pizza covered in nothing but. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was. Sam dove into the first slice, nearly finishing it in three bites.

“Easy there, cowboy,” Billy mused, biting into his own pizza slice at a much more controlled rate. “Make sure you chew well — you have to take your meds after this and believe me, puking up that shit will be disgusting.”

Sam swallowed, and took a swig of soda. “Sorry. Guess I was kind of starving.” He started his second piece like less of a crazy person.

Before Billy could reply, an outrageous moan sounded throughout the room. His eyebrows shot up as he looked to the television. “Damn, she’s enjoying herself. Too bad _no one sounds like that in real life._ ”

Sam almost choked on his pizza, but got it down without incident. “I know, it’s pretty ridiculous. Her tits are totally fake, too.”

Billy leaned back in his chair so that he could better view the action on the screen. As he watched, he tilted his head slightly. “Yeah… boobs don’t jiggle like that when they’re real.” After a moment, he sat forward again and raised an eyebrow in Sam’s direction. “You’ve seen tits?”

“Yeah.” A thoughtful silence. Billy kept eating but Sam could tell he was waiting. “Sarah had her top off when we were… fooling around.”

“Sarah?” Billy frowned, holding his pizza in midair as he pondered the name. “Brunette from the party? How did that go?”

“It was okay. Felt great if I kept my eyes closed.” While Sam wasn’t quite ready to share who he’d been thinking of when Sarah had had her mouth around his cock, he did feel that he could tell Billy other things.

“Yeah — the same thing happened to me the first time I slept with a woman. It felt good, but there was no spark and I had to close my eyes and imagine my best friend from high school.” Billy finished his pizza and took a long drink of soda before continuing. “I was in the same boat, Sam. Despite how I am now — back when I was fifteen and sixteen I had no idea what I wanted or needed in life. I was popping boners in the locker room and getting annoyed at all the girls flirting with me.”

“So how did you deal with it?”

“Fucked my best friend.” Billy snorted, shaking his head. “It was amazing and I finally felt like I could enjoy sex. After that moment I realized that the only person that could control my happiness was _me._ I haven’t been with a woman since.”

Sam bit his lip, thinking about all of his so-called ‘friends’ back home and how they would react if he came out as gay. His status as a socialite king would be blown out the window. But was status and fake friends worth being unhappy for? If they didn’t love the true Sam, then they obviously weren’t really his friends in the first place. They were just using him to move up the social ladder.

He continued to ponder those thoughts as he finished eating and took the pain medication that Billy slid across the table to him. Another moan from the television made his bravery strike and he couldn’t keep his next question at bay. “What is it like? You know… _sex._ With a guy.”

Billy sputtered out his drink a bit, obviously not expecting Sam to ask a question like _that._ “At first… you think you’re insane for ever wanting to try something like that. And then it’s just… amazing, and you never want to stop.”

He closed his eyes and imagined what that first moment would be like if he was sharing it with someone like Billy. Someone that _knew_ how he would be feeling and would take it slow and not make fun of him for making stupid mistakes.

Sam knew it wouldn’t happen. Despite fantasy and longing, it was becoming obvious that Billy saw him as nothing more than a little brother that he could offer advice to and be a friend for. 

So much less than what Sam wanted.

“Come on, Samsquatch, let’s find a movie to order and charge to Cas’ credit card. We’ll relax while those pain pills kick into your system.”

If a movie night alone with Billy as friends was all Sam could get, then he would take it and he would enjoy every second.

He carefully got to his feet and used the crutches to make it back to his bed. “I wonder if room service has popcorn…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I should probably add huffledork as a co-author. ;) <3

_First Love Mistakes: You won’t say what you want sexually._

\---

On the second night after his injury, Sam woke up around one a.m. and felt restless because of the pain shooting up his leg. He sat up, glancing around the room for a moment before spotting his bottle of pain pills sitting on the dresser. Since Billy was still sleeping, Sam decided to hobble his way across the floor to get his own medicine.

He was still terrible on the damn crutches but the one time he’d tried walking without, the pain had brought him to his knees. There was a half empty bottle of Mountain Dew sitting beside the pills — probably Billy’s — and Sam used that to wash the pill down instead of walking all the way to the bathroom for water. 

When he spun back around to walk back to his bed, his feet got caught up in the crutches and he panicked. Since he really _didn’t_ want to hit the floor again, he threw himself onto the nearest soft surface as he began to fall. With a not-so-gentle bounce, he landed across Billy’s bed, his feet still dangling off of the side and his head hitting Billy’s sheet-covered thigh.

In shock, Billy shot upright and blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what was happening. Head still buried against Billy’s thigh, Sam’s shoulders began to shake as he laughed. 

Billy frowned, still obviously confused. “Sam? Are you okay?”

The laughing ceased for a moment as Sam raised his head and grinned at Billy. “ _I fell for you._ ”

Silence hit the room as Billy continued to stare at Sam like he was insane. After a second, he looked up and noticed the bottle of pills sitting nearby. “Did you take more painkillers?”

“Just one. My ankle hurts, Billy. Will you massage it for me?”

“Sam, your ankle is in a cast.”

“Wh-what? It is?” Sam could barely contain the giggle. “Just kidding — I totally already knew that.” 

“Okay kiddo, let’s get you into your own bed, so you can sleep this off.”

Sam made an unhappy noise.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I dun wanna go to my own bed.” Sam flopped forward again, and his next words were muffled. “Wanna stay here.”

Billy’s eyes drifted for just along Sam’s body for just a moment, before he reached forward and brushed Sam’s hair from his face. “Why would you want to do a thing like that, Sammy cakes?”

Sam let out a heavy sigh, half contemplative and half confessional. “Because you’re so nice to me, Billy. Soooo nice.” His voice pitched up and down wildly as if he weren’t quite sure what he was saying, and his words were ever so slightly slurred. “No one’s ever as nice to me as you are, have I ever told you that?” 

That made Billy pause, his fingers still curled into Sam’s hair. “Why aren’t people nice to you, Sam? You’re amazing, and from what I saw at your birthday… everyone loves you.”

Sam’s voice got quieter, his tone a little more even. “I know they do. But… just because your family loves you doesn’t mean they understand you. I mean, you don’t talk to you sister anymore, right?”

“Sam—” Billy frowned, a storm brewing in his eyes as he contemplated Sam’s words. “What happened between Bree and I was less to do with understanding and more to do with… certain events that transpired.” He tucked Sam’s hair behind his ear and smiled sadly. “I know your struggle though, trying to understand yourself while also getting your friends and family to see the real you.” His finger dipped down, guiding Sam’s chin so their eyes met. “I see the real you, Sam.”

Later Sam probably would have blamed the pain pills for what he did next but, in that moment, he mostly just felt his nerves. And then promptly ignored them. He surged forward before he could second-guess himself, smashing his lips against Billy’s.

Billy’s hand slid up Sam’s face, cradling it gently as he let the kiss happen. After a few long moments, he pulled back, letting his thumb brush over Sam’s bottom lip. He opened his mouth to talk, before closing it back for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle. “Sam… I think you should get back in your bed.”

“Shit. Yeah, I’m sorry, Billy. I don’t know what I—” Sam scrambled away, hobbling back over to his own bed.

With a sigh, Billy watched Sam snuggle back into his own bed. “Goodnight, Sam.”

\---

Billy was _fucked_. He stood at the bar by the hotel swimming pool and watched across the clear blue water to where Sam was propped up between two pool chairs and cuddling a sleeping Brooklyn, reading.

“You okay?”

Billy looked away from Sam and forced a smile at the sight of Castiel standing there. “I uh… yeah. Probably.”

“Probably?”

It was likely a terrible idea, but Billy was going insane trying to thinking everything over in his own mind. He lowered his voice a bit and leaned closer to his technically ex-brother-in-law. “Sam kissed me last night.”

“Oh. I thought maybe he was doing something wrong with the baby.” Castiel took a sip from his beer before looking at Billy with a raised eyebrow. “Why did you let that happen?”

“It was a bit spur of the moment. We’ve been talking a lot.” Billy sighed. “Did you know that Sam’s gay?”

“Dean’s never mentioned it.”

_Of course not._ “Because Dean seems to have an image of Sam in his mind that he doesn’t want to change. It doesn’t take much to watch Sam every time Dean suggests talking to a girl and see the way he freezes.”

Castiel looked across the pool to where Dean and Boston were playing together in the shallow end. "Dean... tends to feel things more deeply than he would care to admit. And I'm afraid, although the physical aspect of our relationship is both satisfying and secure, that Dean's sexuality is not something he has otherwise wholly come to terms with."

_Figures._ "So what, you think he's projecting his own insecurities on the poor kid?"

"I think it's very likely."

Billy finished his drink and stared at the empty glass as he contemplated ordering another. “Well, because of that Sam is latching onto me as the only person he can be himself around. He’s developing feelings and fuck, Cas… you know I’m no good with temptation.”

With a snort, Castiel took another drink of his beer. “Maybe I should get you your own room.”

His eyes drifted back to Sam and he thought about how close they had become over the past couple of days. The correct answer would of course be yes — his own room would force him away from temptation and put his relationship with Sam completely back in the ‘friends only’ lane. 

The thought made him sad. Which, of course, was telling. But, along with temptation, he was also not good about handling withdrawal.

“We’ll be fine. I can be a grown-up.”

\---

“I need help showering.”

_Damn it._

Billy looked up from the television show he was watching and stared at Sam. The younger man was wearing nothing but his swim trunks, a plastic bag already tied around his cast, as he leaned against his crutches. 

When Billy didn’t respond right away, Sam continued. “I can’t hold myself up in the shower and I’m tired of washing my hair in the sink.”

_Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea._ “Sure. Let me get back into my swim trunks.”

Ten minutes later Billy was being subjected to the glorious vision of Sam Winchester with water falling down over his mostly naked body. It was _too much_ but not quite enough. 

At first Sam simply held one hand against Billy’s shoulder as he washed his hair, but eventually Billy noticed the struggle and pain forming on Sam’s face. “Here kid,” he whispered. Since Sam’s hair was clean, Billy grabbed the soap and a wash cloth and got it sudsy, the steam rising around them. “Both hands on my shoulder. Lean all of your weight on me while I do this.”

Sam did as he was told, and Billy tried his damnedest to not think about how close their faces were. The two of them couldn’t happen, and he hoped that much had been made abundantly clear. He was just doing Sam a favor—the poor guy was still injured, after all. He was just helping out a friend.

The problem was, however, that the only thing worse than wet Sam was a wet and _soapy_ Sam. As Billy brushed the cloth down Sam’s chest, he bit his lip to stifle a moan. His cock had begun to fill, obviously deciding that it was time to take notice of its surroundings. Despite Billy’s internal monologue and attempts to remain professional about the whole thing — it wasn’t happening. As Billy began wash down Sam’s arms, and over his back, he could feel his dick valiantly rising to attention, inhibited only by the tight wet fabric of his suddenly way-too-small shorts. He longed to look down and assess just how bad the damage was, but he knew that in such close proximity even a cursory glance downward would be a dead giveaway. So he stayed the course.

Sam, however — probably finding the prospect of close eye contact equally uncomfortable — did look down. “Umm…”

Billy coughed, now incredibly focused on soaping Sam’s left shoulder. “It’s that bad, huh?”

Sam laughed, and Billy wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or mildly insulted. “Yeah, it’s that bad.”

“Crap. I’m sorry, Sam.”

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to help me—”

“Sam.” Billy looked up into that pair of eager hazel eyes (and seriously, why should it be such a turn-on that someone younger than him was _taller_ ) and held his gaze. “It’s fine.” 

They stared for a long intense moment and it took every _ounce_ of self-control that Billy possessed not to lean forward and kiss Sam again. He finally broke the gaze and looked down to where he was soaping Sam’s stomach and _fuck_ bad idea. Billy was hard as a rock and there was no denying Sam was in the exact same state. His blue board shorts were tented outrageously and even though Billy couldn’t see to confirm for sure he was fairly certain that every part of Sam was proportional to his near-towering. And that was intensely hot.

The ability to hold back was slipping through Billy’s grasp. The cloth moved slower, sliding along the edge of Sam’s shorts. “Sam,” Billy managed, the name _almost_ getting caught in his throat. He didn’t know what he was needing or asking for… permission, maybe?

Sam said nothing, but looked at Billy with an overwhelming need in his eyes. His bottom lip slipped between his teeth and Billy became convinced that if he didn’t do something at that very moment he was going to drop dead of a heart attack at twenty-five, right there in the shower.

A single drop of water caught Billy’s attention and he followed its slow trail down Sam’s tan skin. When it hit the ridge of those damn board shorts, and the battle was lost. Billy surged forward, carefully pressing Sam’s weight up against the wall. Once their bodies were even closer, his eyes tracked to Sam’s lips. “I’m going to do something _really_ bad, Sam. Something we both know I shouldn’t do. So I have one rule.” He looked back up, meeting lust-blown hazel eyes. “The shorts stay on and there will be no touching beneath them. Deal?”

A shudder ran over Sam’s skin as he nodded his head quickly. “Deal. But… can I kiss you?”

_Fuck._ The kid was going to be the death of him. He looked at those damned lips one more time and knew that the answer should be no. If he gave in a little, he would want everything. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to say ‘no’, to refuse the request. 

Instead, he leaned forward and captured Sam’s bottom lip between his own — nipping gently as his hand finally dropped the wash cloth and trailed over Sam’s skin. He felt the soft pudge of belly that hid lines of firm muscle, and dipped his tongue into Sam’s mouth, stealing the moan he let out as his hand finally found the line of hard cock tenting wet shorts. 

Sam gasped at the touch and, self-control be damned, Billy used the moment to push his tongue further against Billy’s own. Sam returned the kiss in earnest, pressing into Billy’s hand at the same time. 

Keeping them both balanced while making sure Sam didn’t put too much pressure on his ankle took a lot more brain power than Billy possessed at that moment so he pressed his right leg between Sam’s and used the extra leverage to help. Once he had, he moved his kisses down along Sam’s chin, sucking and nipping lightly, mindful not to leave any marks. 

After a few moments, his own cock was so rock hard that it almost hurt — and he was not about to rut against Sam’s leg like a dog. He moved his lips to Sam’s ear and moaned out his words, “Touch me, Sammy.”

Sam said no words in response, but his hand flew to Billy’s cock so fast he thought he might pass out. Sam’s hand stayed outside the fabric, just like they’d agreed. Sam’s touch was fumbling like you’d expect of anyone with so little experience, but Billy still knew it would be more than enough for him.

Especially if Sam kept kissing him like that.

Billy let his hands drift a little farther down, and pushed the loose fabric of Sam’s shorts a little closer to his body as he cupped Sam’s balls and massaged them gently. Sam broke back from kissing, his head lulling back against the wall, and Billy took the chance to kiss and lick at his neck. “Do you know, Sam, what I would do to you if you were older?”

Sam shook his head, his hand moving a little faster along Billy’s cock. “N-no.”

“Right here, right now… I would spin you around to face the wall, and I would drop to my knees and pull these damn shorts off. I’d push those perky little ass cheeks of yours apart and make you scream loud enough for the whole hotel to hear as I licked and fucked your hole with my tongue.”

“Oh f-fuck, Billy!” Sam’s entire body seemed to stutter with his voice, and Billy didn’t need to see the come leaking out of Sam’s cock to know that it was.

Fuck if he didn’t want to drop to his knees and clean every inch of Sam’s cock with his tongue. 

He laid his forehead on the younger man’s shoulder and glanced down to where their bodies rested together. Sam’s touch had drawn to a stop as his orgasm took over, so Billy reached down and laid his hand over Sam’s before gently guiding the strokes at the right speed and pressure. 

“Sam,” he whispered, “would you beg me to fuck you, if things were different? Scream for my cock in your ass?” He moaned, eyes falling shut as he tried to visualize that taking place. “Tell me, Sammy. _Please._ ”

“Y-yes, Billy.” Sam sounded out of breath. “I want to.”

He groaned. “I bet you’d feel so tight around my cock, Sam. Fuck, so good.” He moved Sam’s hand to where the head of his cock rested and held it there as his orgasm finally hit him. He wanted Sam to _feel_ how intensely Billy was coming.


	6. Chapter 6

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll overshare on social media._

\---

“I don’t wanna go home.”

Dean stared at the pouting four-year-old and felt the exact same way. Unfortunately, vacations didn’t last forever. “Bo, we have to go home. Grandma misses us and Daddy has to go back to work. Now, help me pick out your clothes for tomorrow like I asked.”

Boston shook his head. “I don’t wanna wear clothes.”

“Too bad.” A loud thud sounded from the direction of the bathroom, followed by a high-pitched squeal of laughter. _Not good._ Castiel and Brooklyn had entered the room twenty minutes before in the hopes of taking a bath. Dean had the distinct feeling that it wasn’t going to plan. He looked back at Bo. “Play with your legos for a few minutes, I’m going to check on Daddy and sister.”

Dean pushed the bathroom door open and stepped into the room. In the large hotel tub, Castiel sat against one side rubbing his head. On the other side, Brooklyn stood — carefully holding onto the faucet for balance — and picked up another bath toy before chucking it at Castiel’s head. In his effort to duck out of range of the toy, Castiel slammed his head back against the wall.

It took every ounce of self-control that Dean had not to laugh out loud. “Having problems?”

“She’s insufferable, Dean.” Castiel mused. “Every time I go near her with the cloth, she throws another toy at me. And when I tried to take the toys away she screamed bloody murder.”

He smirked. “So _not_ as enjoyable as our bath yesterday?”

If looks could kill, Dean would be a dead man. “ _No._ ”

“Come here, snugglebutt,” Dean said, grabbing a nearby towel and holding his hands out to Brooke. She reached for him immediately and curled into the towel as she continued to glare at Castiel. Dean held her close as he checked through the open door to make sure Boston was still playing on the floor with his toys. When he was satisfied that Bo wasn’t going to destroy the room, he looked back at Castiel. “Get that hot naked butt out of the tub and turn the fancy fifty person shower on.”

“Maybe a bit of an exaggeration,” Castiel commented. He did as he was told, though, and pulled the plug on the bath water before climbing out and moving over to the shower. 

Once the water was on and warming up, Dean placed Brooke in Castiel’s arms and ignored her screaming while he stripped out of his own clothes. “We’ll tag team and get through this quickly.”

“Do you know how disappointing it is when you get naked and I have to behave because of kids in the room?”

“Yes, yes I do.” Dean pulled Brooke back into his arms minus the towel and held her close as he stepped into the large shower. 

Castiel followed, carrying a bottle of baby shampoo and looking unsure about the potential success of Dean’s plan. “Is this going to work?”

“It is. Now, while I hold her, you soap. And be quick about it — she does _not_ like getting clean.”

Five minutes later, after high-pitched screams and angry little arms being slammed into Dean’s chest, they finally had the soap washed away and Brooklyn clean. Dean smiled, nuzzling at her neck and trying to get her to laugh as he ducked in and out of the water. 

Castiel moved up behind Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “I think she loves you more than me.”

“I’d say it’s possible. I am the cool dad, after all.”

He slapped Dean’s ass before shutting the water off and grabbing them each a towel. Once Dean and Castiel had towels wrapped around their waists and Brooklyn was bundled up in her own, they stepped back into the bedroom to check on Boston.

“Bo,” Castiel said quickly, “you love me more than Papa, right?”

Boston looked up and contemplated them both before shaking his head. “Nah.”

Castiel pouted. “No love… I get absolutely _no love_ from any of you.” 

“Hey now.” Dean leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “That’s not true. _I love you._ ”

\---

Sam was surprisingly talented at avoiding being alone with Billy for the next few days. Of course it helped that the kids spent two nights staying in their room so that Dean and Cas could have time alone.

There was no real reason to avoid Billy other than the fact that Sam wanted far more than Billy was ever going to let him have. 

The avoidance was apparently obvious, though, because on the night before they were due to fly home Billy sat down on the edge of Sam’s bed and sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked shit up between us, Sammy.”

In confusion, Sam leaned against the headboard and stared at Billy like he’d gone mad. “You didn’t—”

“I did. I should have known when to stop.” Billy held his gaze and smiled sadly. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Sam. When we get home I want you to still know you can come to me with anything that is going on.”

Sam pouted. “I don’t want to be just a friend.” Mindful of the cast on his ankle, Sam slid slowly forward on the bed until he was pushed up against Billy’s side. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding you. Because I didn’t know how to say what I wanted. But I’m fucking sixteen, Billy. I’m not a child. In most countries I’m legal.” He leaned forward, laying his hand on Billy’s thigh as he moved his lips to Billy’s ear. “Stop treating me like a child and do what you _want._ ”

A visible shudder ran down Billy’s back. “Sam—”

“ _Billy._ ”

Billy looked up to hold his gaze for a long moment before jumping up from the bed and taking a couple steps away. He looked shaken as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair and pointed at Sam. “Clothes off _except_ for your boxers. There’s got to be boundaries, Sam.”

A widespread grin on his face, Sam tossed his shirt aside like it was on fire before wiggling out of the sweatpants he wore. When he was left in only a pair of black boxer briefs, he leaned back against the headboard once more. 

Just the sight of sixteen-year-old Sam laying there mostly naked and entirely anxious had Billy apparently ready to go. 

Billy’s own clothes went flying until he stood before Sam in bright pink cotton briefs. Sam licked his lips. “Please, Billy.”

“No touching beneath the underwear,” Billy said. He pointed at Sam, “In fact, no touching at all. You’re trouble, Mister. Let me find something to tie your hands with.”

Sam didn’t argue, because whatever he was getting was better than nothing — even if he couldn’t touch.

Billy found a mustard yellow tie from his bag of misfit clothes and walked back over to Sam. There wasn’t a good spot on the headboard to tie Sam’s hands to, so Billy wrapped his wrists together as tight as possible. Sam looked down at his own hands bound together and frowned. With the way they were tied and resting on his chest, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to touch aside from brushing his fingers through Billy’s hair. But he would hold back from doing even that — if it meant not spooking the older man and making him stop.

His curiosity got the better of him, though, and he had to ask. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Blow your mind, Sammy.” 

Sam felt his cock twitch in his underwear as he watched Billy climb onto the bed and settle between his legs. _Oh fuck._ It wasn’t exactly like his fantasy… but it was _better_.

With a glint in his eye, Billy leaned forward and licked the length of Sam’s hard cock through the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Fuck!” The sensation was overwhelming. It was like being an inch away from everything he ever wanted. His cock strained against the fabric, wanting to stand upright but unable to because of the way the tight cotton fit against his body. His back arched involuntarily and Billy laid his hand against Sam’s chest to steady him, and push him gently back down against the bed.

“It’s okay Sam,” Billy said, his voice smooth and soothing. “I got you.”

Sam had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from keening when Billy followed his reassurance with a squeeze to Sam’s hip.

“You still okay with this?” Billy asked.

“Fuck, yes,” Sam breathed.

Billy returned his mouth to Sam’s erection. The sensation was hot — not as wet and slick as when Sarah had gone down on him, but a thousand times more interesting, owing just to the fact of who it was. Sam couldn’t help but buck his hips up just a little when Billy pushed the fabric close to Sam’s cock and took most of him in his mouth. Sam breathed deep, wanting to draw this out, never wanting it to end. 

He knew it would probably be a losing battle.

His hands moved on instinct, and though he promised himself he wouldn’t — he dug his fingers through the soft golden strands of Billy’s hair. When he could hold his eyes long enough to look down at the sight without completely losing it, he stared down at Billy, mesmerized. 

Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed movement, and when he tilted his head to the side he could just _barely_ make out Billy’s hand moving within his own underwear. 

_Oh fuck._ Sam groaned. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”

“Mmmm.”

“Shit. Wish I could feel it all.” His hips shifted up, searching out more of Billy’s warm mouth. “Just want you to fuck me.”

The words obviously sparked a reaction, because Billy’s pace stuttered and Sam felt teeth dragging a bit against his cock. His head fell back and he tugged at Billy’s hair as best he could as he felt his cock begin to come. 

Billy didn’t move away, his mouth hovering over the head of Sam’s cock as he sucked everything Sam had to offer out through the material of the underwear.

It took Sam a ridiculous amount of time to recover. Once his body didn’t feel like jello, he raised his head and watched Billy sit up on the bed. 

When Billy pulled his right hand free from his pants, Sam saw the smears of come on his hand and groaned. “Let me taste. _Please._ ” 

Billy looked like he wanted to protest, but in the haze of post-orgasm bliss didn’t seem to have a good argument. He raised his hand to Sam’s lips, and Sam didn’t hesitate to lick away every single drop that he could find.

“Fuck, Sam.” Billy’s eyelids drooped as he watched the scene. “I might need to get a different room just so I don’t wake up in the middle of the night and fuck you senseless.”


	7. Chapter 7

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll look at his texts or messages._

\---

When they arrived home, Kansas seemed different. Sam was happy to see his mom, but not at all excited about the prospect of going back to school. Since he couldn’t ride his bike with a cast on, his mom drove him into town instead and when he hobbled his way into the high school on his crutches - he felt a shift in the air.

The usual group was gathered around the lockers on the east side of the library. Sam bypassed all of them and headed directly for his own locker. He didn’t want to hear about Maggie’s newest boyfriend or Clint’s failing grade in algebra. He just… he didn’t care. 

Unfortunately they flocked to him like bugs to a light and suddenly he was surrounded by six other students all asking questions about his vacation — and his injury. One word about all the gay sex he had _almost_ had and they would all shut up and never speak to him again.

He was really fucking tempted. 

“Oh look it’s the fag from Chicago and his precious fag alliance group posters,” Clint called, loud enough for everyone in the hallway to hear. 

Sam looked in the same direction as everyone else and noticed a fairly new kid that he had only seen once or twice before. The kid ignored the taunts as he taped a ‘Gay/Straight Alliance Meeting’ poster on the wall. Shoving past the group by his locker, Sam moved on his crutches over to where the other kid still stood. “Hey.”

Sam was hit with the most unamused look in history as gray eyes stared at him. “What?”

He frowned, his sudden courage dissipating with every second. “I uh… I’m Sam.” He held out his hand. “Sam Winchester. I’m a junior. I don’t think we’ve met—”

The gray eyes looked down at his hand nervously before shooting over his shoulder to glare at the popular kids standing across the hall. “If this is some kind of prank or set up — just get it over with.”

“It’s not.” Sam quickly shook his head. “I’m just introducing myself.”

A tentative hand grasped his own and shook. “Ezekiel Turner.”

“Nice to meet you, Ezekiel.” He smiled, dropping his hand away and motioning towards the poster. “When is the meeting? I’d like to come.”

Ezekiel’s eyebrow raised and the kids across the hall snickered. “Tomorrow afternoon. Please don’t -” Ezekiel frowned, looking back to the poster. “Please don’t turn this into a joke. It’s important.”

“I know it is. Should I bring anything? My mom makes amazing cookies.”

“You could,” Ezekiel mused, “but it’ll probably just be you and I, so don’t bring a lot.”

Sam nodded and continued to smile reassuringly. “See you tomorrow then.”

\---

The call went out before they even left Miami, so Billy wasn’t at all surprised when he went back to his motel room in Kansas and found his oldest friend sitting on the bed waiting for him in nothing but a robe. “You are ridiculous, how did you get in here?”

“Told them I was your long lost lover.”

Billy nodded his head in agreement. “Fair enough.” He shoved his suitcase aside, shut the door behind him, and walked over to the bed. When he collapsed down on it, he made sure to land his head against the cushion of a familiar thigh. “Chuckles, babe, I have fucked up my life big time.”

“So you’ve said - which is why I’m in the middle of Hicksville in the nastiest motel I’ve ever seen.” Chuck sighed heavily. “So what’s his name?”

Closing his eyes, Billy imagined moppy brown hair and piercing hazel eyes. “Sam. His name is Sam.”

Chuck lay his hand reassuringly on Billy’s head. “That’s a nice name,” he said, considering. “I knew a Sam once. She was terrifying.”

Billy groaned, rolling onto his side and staring up at Chuck. “He’s sixteen, Chuckles.”

“Shit.”

“I know.” He rolled back and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m fucked.”

“Wait,” Chuck’s eyes begin to widen. “You didn’t -- don’t tell me -- don’t tell me you fucked him! God dammit Billy.”

_I wish._ “I didn’t. But we may have fooled around a little.” It was like he could still taste Sam on his tongue…

Chuck rubbed both of his eyes while he began to talk. “And what… what do you propose to do about this, exactly?”

A pout formed on his face. “I _really_ want to fuck him.”

“Do you _really_ want to go to jail, too?”

“See?” Billy sat up and pointed at Chuck. “This is why I have you here. My voice of reason. My one and only. Now - how do I stop tasting him on my tongue and imagining him when I masturbate?”

It was as if Chuck had been posed with a particularly difficult math problem. A crease formed between his brows and he rested his head in one hand. “Are you going to run into him on a regular basis?”

“His brother is Castiel’s boyfriend.” Billy frowned. “Yes. The answer to that question is _yes._ ”

Chuck thought a little more. “Good. That’s good.”

“Good? How is that _good_? I think you’re forgetting how English works.”

“No, hear me out. All you need to do is pretend you’re over him. If he’s around all the time that gives him more than enough chances to see that you’ve moved on.” 

Billy contemplated Chuck’s plan for a long moment, before nodding his head. “Okay, I can see that.” A smirk moved over his lips. “But you’ll have to help.”

\---

Ezekiel was correct in his assumption — he and Sam were the only two at the GSA meeting the next afternoon. Sam sat down across from his new friend at the table and propped his crutches up before pulling out a plastic tupperware container from his backpack. He shoved it to the middle of the table with a smile. “Hope you like chocolate chip. Mom said I had to give her more notice for fancier cookies.”

“Thanks, Sam.” Ezekiel grabbed a cookie as he opened up his binder. “And thanks for coming. It dispels the rumors that I’m just here to get out of sixth period.”

Sam’s eyes darted around the room, checking for other people hiding out or watching through the window on the closed door. Finally, he lowered his voice and said softly, “I’ve recently decided that I’m gay.” When Ezekiel looked up with raised eyebrows, Sam continued. “I probably always knew — but I just got back from a family vacation and had a close friend help me accept what I want.”

“That’s awesome, Sam.”

“Yeah. But unfortunately I can’t talk to my mom or brother about it — and that same friend is an older guy that I have a thing for, so I can’t talk to him either. Which is why I’m here.”

\---

By the end of the week, Sam considered Zeke to be his best friend. They hung out at school, after school, and talked online or through text messages when they weren’t together. The fake friends of the ‘popular’ crowd had drifted away, replaced by a sounding board that Sam never knew he craved having so much.

Not only was it nice to talk to someone about what he was going through, but it was also refreshing to hear someone else’s similar issues and offer his own advice. Zeke dealt with an unsupportive environment both at home and at school. His father called him ‘queerbait’ just like his ‘damn uncle’ in New York, and his mother drank too much to care.

In an effort to avoid the drama, Zeke took up volunteering for various charitable organizations. _’I’m going to run away someday. Gonna help the world,’_ one of his text messages to Sam read.

Sam could understand how he was feeling, and offered as much support as he could. When Saturday evening rolled around, he got permission from his mom before calling and inviting Zeke over for family supper. Zeke arrived mid-afternoon and they hung out upstairs playing X-Box while waiting for dinner. 

When Mary finally called up the stairs for the boys to come down and eat, they shut off the video game and Sam lead the way down to the large dining room. He wasn’t surprised to see his brother, Cas, and the kids already seated at the table… but he _was_ surprised about the addition of two more down at the far end. Billy sat beside of a scruffy looking guy with dark hair, and held the guy’s hand on top of the table. 

Introductions were made around the room.

And Sam officially met _Chuck_ — Billy’s high school sweetheart.

\---

Even with Zeke by his side Sam struggled to make it through the dinner without killing both Chuck and Billy. Especially when they started feeding each other with their fingers. To make up for it, halfway through the meal he looked over to his mom and smiled as he asked if Zeke could stay the night. When she approved, he turned to smirk at Zeke — but watched Billy take in the entire exchange out of the corner of his eye. If they were playing some kind of game, then Sam was just as good at it as Billy was.

Once the house was quiet and the guests were gone, Sam sat next to Zeke on his double bed and laid his head on the spot where his knees were pulled up to his chest. “I don’t know what to do. I feel like my whole heart is crushed.”

“Did you know he had a boyfriend?”

Sam shook his head. “Fucking… _no._ Bastard never said a word. Ugh, I hate this town!”

“Well I would tell you that it’s just a high school crush and you’ll survive — but you already know that and it’s not going to make it better. So tell me what I can do, Sam.”

Sam knew exactly what Zeke could do. He looked up and smiled. “I have a plan.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Top Sam in this.
> 
> And I'm guessing by everyone's previous comments that this 'plan' might not be what anyone expected. I must assure you that this was the plan all along and had to happen in order for this story's future to play out properly.
> 
> Also, I want to mention quickly that I've never taken on the responsibility of writing an asexual character before because I was worried I would mess up and offend someone by accident. Before including that aspect into this story I consulted with an ace friend (thank you Ashley!) in hopes that my idea would go over well. 
> 
> That being said, I still hope everything comes across alright and that no one is offended. <3

_First Love Mistakes: You won’t listen to anyone’s advice._

\---

A week before the plan was scheduled to go into effect, Sam started getting cold feet. It was a _big_ decision — one that would change his life forever.

He worried about his mom the most. What she would think when she opened the carefully sealed letter that was laying on his desk. She would cry and he hated making her cry. 

But then she sat at dinner the night before and talked about the way everyone in town treated her differently because of Dean and Castiel. She’d reached across the table and squeezed Sam’s hand.

_’I’m so glad that one of my sons will bring home a blushing bride one day. You’ll go off to college and then I’ll get a phone call. And she’ll be beautiful — I just know it.’_

The pressure slammed down onto Sam’s shoulders and the guilt slid away as he sent the text to Zeke. _See you tomorrow._

Sam didn’t know the specifics — and he didn’t plan on asking questions. All he knew was that Ezekiel had a cousin with connections. And thanks to the money they both had in savings a plane ticket to South America was no big deal. 

They landed in Buenos Aires, Argentina with nothing more than a few hundred dollars and each other. Zeke’s cousin was supposed to have a host family set up and ready for them.

_’You’re foreign exchange students from Canada. Act the part and no one will ask questions.’_

\---

“I half expected to get mugged as soon as we landed. All things considered, I think we’re pretty lucky.”

Zeke snorted from his spot at the other end of the two-by-four that they were carrying. In exchange for room and board, they had offered to help their host family’s contracting company. So, in the midst of doing school work and household chores they were also building middle class homes on the outskirts of town. 

In the three weeks that had passed since they arrived, Sam had dealt with more than a few homesick moments. But then he remembered how unhappy he was in Kansas and continued to relish the sunshine of South America. 

He also got to spend time developing his friendship with Zeke — which was equal parts good and bad. 

Because at some point they had started developing more than a friendship.

“Javier is setting up a group to go to a small village in the mountains and help rebuild some of their homes. Apparently a flood hit the area a few weeks back and destroyed a lot of stuff.” Zeke held the board steady while Sam secured his side with a nail gun. “I was thinking we could volunteer. We’re both ahead in our school stuff. Might as well do some good, right?”

Sam moved around Zeke and nailed the other side before nodding. “Sounds like fun. How long will we be gone?”

“Depending on the work, somewhere around a month.” Zeke smirked. “I convinced Javier that we could share a tent to conserve space.”

That made Sam laugh. “You’re a regular humanitarian, Zeke.”

\---

_Dear Mom,_

_I know you must be worried sick about me. Three weeks is the longest we’ve ever been apart. But I wanted to write you this letter and let you know that I’m doing fine. Zeke and I are on an exchange trip to South America - and I know we did this without parental consent and without telling you guys, but I had to go._

_It’s probably a coward’s way out, to tell you like this, but you deserve to know why I left…_

_Mom, I’m gay._

_I just… I couldn’t stand sitting around and listening to complaints about how hard life was now that Dean is in a relationship with a guy. And high school in Kansas as a gay student would have been a world of ridicule and unease. It was either this or live a lie._

_I can be myself here. I just need a few months to embrace who I am. Zeke and I are living with a nice family, going to school, and working for the family’s construction company._

_In fact, we’re getting ready to travel into the hills to help a village whose homes have been wiped out by a flood._

_I’m helping people, Mom. This is more than I could have ever hoped for back home._

_Please give my love to Dean, Cas, and the kids._

_And don’t blame yourself… this was my decision. My choice in life._

_With love,_

_Sam_

\---

“Next time we run away from home,” Sam mused, “I say we pick a country without all of this damn rain.”

Zeke sat at the edge of their tent and stared out at the large raindrops falling through the trees above them. Thankfully their tent was elevated off of the ground by three feet so that they wouldn’t wake up drenched from sleeping on wet ground.

There was no denying the fact that Ezekiel liked the rain more than Sam. Two days before he had been dancing around in the falling drops like a maniac. He stuck his hand out through the tent opening and let the water hit his skin. “Sam, we’re from Kansas — the driest, flattest, ugliest state in America. How can you not be in love with every aspect of Argentina?”

He had a point. Sam set his book aside and slid the few feet over to where Zeke sat. “True. And the people are amazing.”

“They are.” Zeke turned, pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek. “But I’m still glad you’re here with me.”

\---

Living off the bare essentials in the middle of the forest was an experience like no other. By week four, Sam was still loving every minute of helping the locals — but also wishing he had some time alone to take care of more… _personal_ issues.

So when he finished his jobs for the day and Zeke still wasn’t back from the supply run he’d gone on with Javier, Sam took full advantage. He took a quick shower in the small camp shower set up that they had, before dressing in a clean t-shirt and shorts.

Once the day’s grime had been washed away, he made his way back to the tent he shared with Zeke and closed himself off inside. There was no reason for anyone to bother him, and Zeke wouldn’t be back for another couple hours _at least_ so Sam ditched his clean clothes and snuggled into his sleeping bag. 

Unfortunately he didn’t bring any porn with him to the rainforest — but he had thought ahead enough to bring a small bottle of lube and a travel size package of kleenex for clean up. He figured his brain could supply the fantasies well enough.

With a bit of lube on his right hand, Sam closed his eyes and began imagining Florida as he slowly stroked his dick. He remembered Billy licking and sucking at his cock through those damn boxer briefs and how frustratingly sexy it had been. 

His erection twitched and started to harden… until the images in his mind suddenly started to change. Instead of Billy sucking his cock, he was suddenly watching Billy suck Chuck off. He let out a frustrated groan as he dropped his hand away and took a deep breath.

Being in South America was amazing. Getting away from the prejudice of Kansas was _amazing_. But it didn’t erase the fact that Billy had spent a week letting Sam’s desires blossom — just to slam them back into the ground once they got home. No amount of miles would erase the betrayal Sam had felt at that moment.

“Having problems?” A voice whispered.

Sam’s eyes shot up and he stared at the spot where Ezekiel stood, holding the tent door halfway open. Despite the fact that Sam was covered by his sleeping bag, he knew that the discarded bottle of lube and package of kleenex — not to mention his haphazardly thrown clothes — were a dead giveaway to what he was doing. Plus, he had no idea how long Zeke had been standing there watching. 

He sighed. “My fantasy just turned into a nightmare.”

“Bummer.” Zeke slipped inside the tent, making sure to zip the door flap all the way closed behind him. He sat down on top of his own sleeping bag and stripped his shirt off. “Maybe I could help.”

Since they had been sharing tight quarters for weeks, Sam had seen Zeke in all states of undress down to his underwear. Now it was different, though. Sam was _naked_ beneath his sleeping bag. His cock was still half hard and slick with lube. And Billy’s memory was still fresh in his mind.

 _Except_... nothing would or had stopped Billy from moving on. So why should Sam feel guilty about doing the same thing? 

“On one condition,” he whispered. Zeke’s eyebrow raised in question, causing Sam to continue. “We don’t let this ruin us or make things awkward. You’re my best friend — and I won’t survive being away from home without you by my side.”

Zeke smiled, his eyes lighting up with affection as he leaned over Sam’s face. “I promise.” 

He sealed his words with a kiss.

\---

Sam knew that every first time was probably awkward. And considering his took place in the middle of the forest in Argentina, in a ten-by-ten tent that wasn’t exactly noise cancelling… he should probably be glad that he had remembered to pack lubricant.

That didn’t mean he had thought far enough ahead to pack things like _condoms_ though — because really, he had had no plans of getting laid on the excursion — but since they were both obvious virgins, he wasn’t too hung up on the thought. 

He wasn’t prepared for the awkward moments of using the lube to gently work Zeke open with his fingers. Nor was he prepared for the _tootightsogoodohman _feeling of being pressed inside of his friend-turned-lover for the first time.__

__The sensation was overwhelming, and he stared down into Zeke’s eyes and immediately felt bad for dwelling on his own pleasure when his friend was obviously not having as much fun. Sam stilled his hips and noticed that Zeke’s cock remained flaccid against his stomach. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” Sam gasped softly. “Am I hurting you? I’ll stop.”_ _

__Zeke shook his head, pulling Sam down to kiss his lips gently. “It’s okay Sam. Just pressure. I think I’ve got it now… go ahead.”_ _

__A few minutes later when Sam was barely clinging to the edges of completion, he took note of Zeke’s continued lack of response and felt like shit. “I can’t—”_ _

__“It’s okay.”_ _

__Sam came with a strangled cry and fell forward against Ezekiel. He waited until he could remember his own name, before rolling away enough to land on the cushions next to Zeke. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__“Sam,” Zeke whispered. His voice cracked a little and he turned, staring at Sam with pained eyes. “This might be my fault. I haven’t ever… I haven’t ever really had any desires for… you know, _sex._ ”_ _

__Sam shook his head and frowned. “Then why did you let me—”_ _

__“Because I had to _try_ and see if I was wrong. I thought maybe it would help to be with someone else. But I don’t think that’s true.” Zeke shrugged, laying back to stare at the roof of the tent. “I was doing research on it back home. I always wondered, but now I think I know for sure…”_ _

__“Know what?”_ _

__“I’m pretty sure I’m asexual.”_ _

__“Oh.” The word slowly sank into his head and rolled onto his back so he could stare up at the same spot. “ _Oh._ I guess that does… explain the lack of reaction. I thought I just did it wrong.” He waited, before reaching his arms out and using them to pull Zeke close. Once the other boy had his head settled on Sam’s chest, Sam kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay. When we get back to the city we’ll do more research. But _thanks._ Thanks for getting my mind off of… home.”_ _

__He could feel the way Zeke’s cheek raised in a smile._ _

__“No problem, Sam.”_ _


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that Sam speaking Spanish is my new fetish. Unfortunately I don't speak Spanish and Google Translate is a bitch. SIGHHH.

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll tell your friends every little detail about everything._

\--- Three Years Later ---

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? We aren’t kicking you out, Sam, you’re always welcome here.”

“Around the love birds? No thank you.” Sam settled the strap of his duffel bag onto his shoulder and smiled at his best friend. Zeke looked as happy as he ever had - especially with his fiancé Tommy wrapped around his waist. “It’s been three years… I’m due for a trip home. And if it’s horrible, believe me, I won’t hesitate to come back.”

Zeke leaned forward out of Tommy’s hold and kissed Sam on the cheek. “Don’t forget to let me know you got back to the States okay.”

“I’ll be sure to email you all of the gory details.”

He said one last goodbye to his friends before going down the stairs of the apartment complex towards where Javier was waiting with his pick-up truck. He greeted his adopted father in Spanish and threw his bag into the back.

Javier raised his eyebrows as he watched Sam climb into the truck. “Estás listo?”

“Sí.” Sam wasn’t sure that he actually was ready — who knew what was waiting for him back in the states — but he had to face reality eventually.

\---

He hadn’t planned ahead well. When Sam stepped off the plane in Kansas City it dawned on him that he had no way of making it the two hours back home from the city.

“Damn it.” He did _not_ want to call family for help. Not after surviving on his own for three fucking years. While he waited for his bag at the luggage carousel, he pulled the band from his wrist and quickly tied his shoulder-length hair up into a ponytail so that it wouldn’t bother him. 

His options were slim: wait for someone from home to come pick him up, or catch a bus. By the time his worn down duffel bag slid in front of him, he knew that he’d much rather get on a bus than sit and wait.

Four hours later he was stepping off the bus in his hometown. He had successfully sent an email to let Zeke and Tommy know he made it safely, and secured a reservation at a local motel — one that had been built since he left. 

The ironic thing about being home was that there was such a weird sense of dread in his stomach that he wasn’t sure he was ready to face his family. Especially without any idea of what to expect. So he took the coward’s way out.

“Can I help you, sir?” 

Sam set his bag by his feet and pulled his wallet from his pocket. He slid his passport and an Argentinian credit card across to the motels receptionist. “I have a reservation under Winchester.”

The man’s face lit up immediately. “Oh! Winchester. Are you here for the wedding?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “No… what wedding?”

“Oh the whole town is excited. One of our very own — born and bred — is getting married this weekend. Brought in a huge crowd from Los Angeles. You sure you aren’t here for it? They’ve arranged a discounted price for all wedding guests.”

He felt his stomach start to spin as he glanced around the empty lobby before looking back at the short man standing on the other side of the desk. “Who’s getting married?”

“Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak.” 

The man continued to prattle on about wedding details but Sam tuned it all out as he glanced back out through the glass entrance. His brother was getting _married._ “Can you get me my key, please? I’ve had a very long flight. Normal rate is fine.”

By the time Sam stepped out of the lobby with a key to his second floor room, he knew the exact date, time, and location of Dean and Cas’ wedding without having even asked. He carried his bag upstairs and realized suddenly that his hopes of avoiding Billy had probably just been dashed. No way would Billy miss a party like that.

He fell down onto the queen size bed in his room and took a deep breath. Not for the first time he wished that Zeke was there with him.

Or that he hadn’t thought coming home would be a good idea.

\---

There was no easy way of showing up on someone’s doorstep and saying ‘Hey, I’m home — sorry I ran away for three years.’ Which is why Sam spent two days in his hotel room — living off of Pizza Hut and convenience store soda — before he decided to walk to his mother’s house.

Unfortunately, when he made it to the edge of his childhood home’s driveway, he realized he should have called before walking two miles for no reason. He stared at the ‘for sale’ sign that hung crooked from a plastic pole. Beyond, at the other end of the drive, it was easy to see that the house was vacant and had been for a while.

 _Shit._ He couldn’t help wondering what his mother had done with his things when he’d left. Had she thrown them out? Or moved them along with everything else to wherever her new home was?

Across the grass and fields he heard the sounds of children laughing and his ears perked up. “ _Dean._ ” He continued walking down the street, heading for the next mailbox and hoping that at least one thing hadn’t changed. 

When the yard came into view, though, he saw a woman chasing two little boys around the yard and frowned. “Excuse me,” he called out, walking closer but keeping enough distance so the woman didn’t get frightened.

She stood up and turned around, offering Sam a smile and a wave as she walked over. “Hello. Are you lost? No street signs around here — it’s very confusing.”

Sam shook his head and ran his hand along the back of his bare neck. “Actually no. I’m looking for a Dean Winchester. Does he still live here?”

“No,” she frowned. “I’m afraid not. We’re renting — lived here about nine months now.”

He forced a smile and nodded. “Thanks.”

The walk back to his motel seemed to take twice as long. His entire family had completely moved on with their lives like he didn’t even exist anymore. They had never tried to find him or contact him — and after a while had apparently forgotten about him all together. Even if he could get up the nerve to continue looking for them… what was the point?

Why had he even decided that now was the right time to come home? It wasn’t like Buenos Aires had stopped having something to offer him. He had family there that still loved him and called him son. He had a best friend that had stood by his side through thick and thin for _three years_ without question.

And all that Kansas had offered up was an empty childhood home and anguish.

Instead of going straight back to his room — because he seriously worried that he would get on his laptop and buy the next plane ticket back to Argentina — Sam stepped into the small diner that sat next to the motel. He sat down in a corner booth facing the door and ordered a cup of coffee and an ice water. He missed being old enough to drink. A cold beer — or twelve — sounded _really_ nice.

The menu was filled with one greasy selection after another, and considering his stomach had barely made it through the pizza, he wasn’t ashamed to order a cobb salad. 

He would kill for some of Malia’s famous puchero. He closed his eyes, imagining it like he was still there... “Mmm.”

“You know only creepers sit in corner booths and moan to themselves.”

Sam’s eyes squeezed tighter together and he ducked his head. Of all the people to see… why did it have to be _that one_ that he ran into first? 

He was afraid to look. Would there be a ring? Chuck sitting down a few tables over and watching the scene in amusement? Sam’s appetite was flying out the window with every breath. If he didn’t look he could just imagine that he was back home and when he opened his eyes he would be staring up at the clear blue skies of Argentina—

“Did you go blind on your journey, Samsquatch?”

Sam finally blinked his eyes open. He stared at the worn diner table long enough to count to thirty, before raising his head and looking into all too familiar golden eyes. “Hello, Billy.”

There wasn’t a ring — that he could see — or a Chuck waiting patiently and watching from another booth. Just Billy… blonde hair split down the middle and tickling the tops of his ears, five o’clock shadow on his face. In favor of the hipster fashion extreme, though, he was wearing tan capris and a blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Hanging loose from the collar and down each side of the row of buttons was a thin black scarf. 

It was still Billy — just more sophisticated. 

Sam wondered if he had held onto all of the pairs of purple and green pants he’d owned three years ago. 

Billy slid into the booth opposite Sam without invitation and smiled. “Sammy. Looking good. Love the ponytail. And the tan.”

With a nod, Sam took a slow sip from his coffee cup. He wasn’t the same kid that Billy had known once upon a time, and it was hard to come up with words to say. “Yeah. Working outdoors in South America will do that to you.”

A smirk tugged at Billy’s lips. “You have the hint of an accent. I bet you’re fluent in more than just Spanish…”

“Maybe.”

“So I just came from a rehearsal dinner that would imply your family has absolutely no idea that you’re back.” 

The waitress stepped back up to the table with Sam’s salad and asked Billy if he wanted anything. He ordered a Coke and shook his head at the offer of food, before turning back to watch Sam pouring dressing onto his salad.

“Why are you at a diner right after a rehearsal dinner?” Sam questioned, spearing a cherry tomato with his fork and bringing it to his mouth.

“Got out of my car at the motel. Noticed you walking in. Thought I saw a ghost. What exactly did they feed you in South America? You’re as tall as a tree and as…” Billy paused to lick his lips, his eyes on Sam’s bare biceps, “...muscled as a wet dream.”

Sam smirked, taking another bite of his salad. Once he was finished with the bite, he answered, “Wheaties.”

“I’ll send a thank you.” Billy accepted his drink from the waitress and slowly and methodically opened his straw. “Your family moved.”

“I noticed.”

“Dean and Cas are getting married.”

“Noticed that too.”

“I want to fuck you so badly I’m literally holding myself back from jumping across this table.”

He hadn't _wanted_ to notice that one. Sam’s eyes drifted down to his salad as he searched out another tomato. “How is Chuck? You two still a thing?”

“We never were a thing, Sam.” Billy shook his head, shoving his soda back a bit as he leaned forward. “Chuck was my friend from school, my first time like I told you. He was also the one I called when I needed advice about dealing with my feelings. My feelings for _you._ ”

“And your answer was to fake a relationship to make me jealous?”

“To make you _uninterested._ ”

“Good plan.” Sam looked back up. “I bet you wish it hadn’t worked so well.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo the reaction to the last chapter was intense. Ye of little faith! You think this author doesn't have a plan? PFFT.
> 
> _*whispers* thanks hufflebutt for helping me come up with a plan..._

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll say ‘I love you’ too soon._

\--- Three Years Earlier ---

Sam sat down at the edge of the garden with his notebook and physics textbook. He always felt like he had to study twice as hard thanks to the fact that most of what he was learning was in Spanish. Thank God he had taken his two years of language courses when he first started high school!

Footsteps drew his attention up to the rock path that crossed the yard and he smiled at the sight of his host mom, Malia, walking his way. Javier and Malia had quickly become adopted parents that he never knew he needed in his life. They had helped him through more than a few stressful moments in just the few months that he had lived there. 

“What are you working on, cariño?” Malia asked, walking over to sit down on the grass beside him. 

Unlike Javier - who always spoke in Spanish in order to keep Sam and Zeke on their toes - Malia offered them both a taste of home by using both Spanish and English when talking to them. 

He tilted his book to show her the cover. “Physics.”

“You and your big hard subjects.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Learning the Spanish for it is a little tough, but I’m managing. At least I don’t have to translate the math.”

“You’re trying very hard, cariño. Is very commendable… I know you are missing your family and friends in America, and you have so many chances to be making new friends here...”

Malia trailed off, and Sam could almost hear the _but_ she left unspoken.

“I’ve seen you hanging around that Rodrigo,” Malia said, and there was no mistaking the protective motherly tone in her voice.

Ever since things… hadn’t happened… with Zeke, Sam had been expanding his social circle. Rodrigo was the first openly gay boy that Sam had met at his new high school. He had bright eyes and curly hair and was an excellent kisser. 

“Él es una mala influencia.”

Sam’s chest felt tight. He knew that some people in Argentina were less accepting than others. He had had no idea where Javier and Malia sat on the issue. If they were homophobic, he would have to decide whether or not his safety was at risk by staying with them. “H-he is…?”

“Si, Sammy. I don’t even want to repeat some of the things I’ve heard about that boy, but they say he’s a—”

_Here we go,_ Sam thought, dread pooling in his stomach. _This is the day I learn Spanish gay slurs._

“—real player.”

_Huh?_

Malia carried on, unaware of the maelstrom going on inside Sam’s head. “You don’t want to go around with someone like that. You should be with a nice boy, Sam.”

“Really?”

Malia slapped his knee playfully. “Of course, really! Do you know Jacinta down at the market? I should introduce you to her boy, Leo. Hardworking, honest, good family values. And,” she leaned in, and gave Sam a wink, “very handsome.”

His heart fluttered as he realized what she was trying to do. Not only did she accept him - _every_ part of him - but she was also trying to play matchmaker! He pushed forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “Gracias, mamá. You’re the best.”

\---

Javier moved down the stairs and into his basement office and pulled the piece of paper from his pocket. The family had left to pick up dinner which meant he had a few moments where no one would interrupt him. Even still - he closed the door shut behind him before sitting down at his desk and pulling out his phone.

He dialed the number that he had scribbled out a few hours before and waited patiently for an answer.

“Hello?”

“Yes.” Javier squinted as he looked at the paper. “I am calling for a… Dean Winchester?”

“Speaking.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded gruff, impatient.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester. My name is Javier. I’m calling you from Argentina. I heard you’re looking for your brother?”

“Yes, yes I am! Do you know where he is? Have you seen Sam?”

“Wirey teenager that’s tall as all get out with brown hair that needs a cut or two?”

“Yes, that’s Sam. Is he okay?”

Javier smiled at the thought of Sam. “Your brother is doing amazing. He’s living here with my wife and I. Working for my company in his spare time when he’s not studying or at school.”

“ _He’s at school?_ ” The man’s voice sounded almost incredulous. “It doesn’t matter. What town are you in? I can book the next flight down, or maybe first thing in the morning—” 

“Mr. Winchester, are you aware of Sam’s reasoning for running away?” 

“I — look, I really don’t see how that’s any of your business —”

Javier took a deep breath. “Mr. Winchester, in the past five months I have watched Sam go from a nervous American teenager completely unsure of himself to a strong young man that has stepped up to build houses for the poor, help elderly neighbors with landscaping. He is getting perfect grades at school, well on his way to graduating early. He has friends that care immensely for him, and a boyfriend that is completely infatuated. I never see Sam without a smile.” Javier shook his head. “Tell me, Mr. Winchester, how was he back home?”

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but we’re _his family_ and he’s still a minor. If you don’t tell me where my brother is I will contact the American embassy and you _will_ hear from the authorities.”

“Please listen to me, Mr. Winchester. I’m just trying to explain to you that Sam must have ran away for a reason. Do you think he’ll respect you enough to stay at home if you fly down here and drag him back?”

Sam’s brother was silent for a few long moments. “You said he has a boyfriend?”

“My wife has introduced him to a nice boy named Leo. I can’t keep up well but I think they’re on date number five,” Javier answered. “Leo spends a lot of time here at the house, spending time with Sam and Ezekiel.”

“Do you think I’d be able to talk to him?”

“I’ve talked to Sam about home quite a lot. He always says how much he misses his family, but finishes the thought with how much nicer things are here. I think Sam is old enough and wise enough to call home if he wishes to speak to you.” Javier waited a moment before continuing his thought, not giving Mr. Winchester a chance to speak just yet. “That being said, I understand that you and your family must be worried. If you’d like, I can arrange to give you a call every few weeks and update you on how Sam is doing.”

“You’re sure he’s doing good? He’s, he’s sleeping, and eating, and has friends?”

“My wife insures that he sleeps and eats regularly. Although he’s sprouting like a moose so he might be eating more than normal. And we have a set curfew here at the house - he is always home by eleven. Your brother is… thriving.”

This time it was the other man’s turn to take a heavy sigh. “Alright. But I would feel better if I had your number. I’ll even call when it’s convenient for you.”

“Of course, Mr. Winchester.” He read out his phone number and listened carefully while it was written down on the other end of the line, and took down Dean’s for good measure. “And... I will encourage Sam to write another letter home soon.”

“Good.” The gruffness in the man’s voice had eased somewhat. “And if anything happens to him, I mean _anything_ , you call me, okay? Any hour of the day, it doesn’t matter. Call me and I’ll come running.”

“You have my word.” Javier smiled. “Have a good evening, Mr. Winchester. Adiós.”

“Th-thank you, Javier. I’ll talk you soon.” The American man had almost sounded like he’d wanted to say something else, but Javier trusted that if he needed to he’d call back. He had the number.

\---

Dean hung up the phone and felt like throwing it across the room. He didn’t, of course, because that would wake the babies up from their nap, but the emotions were bubbling up like a volcano.

Castiel stepped back into the room and stared at Dean with questions in his eyes. He had walked in earlier when Dean was in the middle of talking, and was obviously curious about who was on the phone even if he didn’t interrupt. 

Seeing his boyfriend standing so close was enough to cause the emotions to boil over. Dean reached out, hooking his finger into Castiel’s belt loop and pulling the other man closer. Once he took the cue and stepped up to where Dean sat, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist and buried his face into the worn out sweater Castiel was wearing. He cried hard enough for his shoulders to start shaking, and he knew that Castiel must be worried something serious had happened — but he couldn’t calm down enough to speak.

Castiel knelt on the floor in front of Dean’s chair and pulled him into a tight hug, placing soft kisses along his brow. “Shhh.”

\--- Nine Months Later ---

At some point the updates went from biweekly phone calls to monthly emails. Dean would complain, if not for the smiling pictures of Sam that were always attached to the email. His ‘kid’ brother was no longer a kid at all. He towered over everyone in the pictures and looked happier than anyone Dean had ever seen.

If Dean had expected that Sam would get tired of being gone and eventually move back - he was completely wrong. A year had passed. Twelve _long_ months… and Sam showed no signs of wanting to come home.

Dean was more than a little bitter. Sam shouldn’t be so happy away from home. He should be back with his real family, not off adopting a new one.

He clicked onto the next picture and stared at the shot of Sam kissing a dark haired boy next to a table with a large cake on it. ‘Happy Birthday Sam!’ was written in icing.

Sam had celebrated his seventeenth birthday like there was nothing unusual about living with a weird family in South America. 

Dean had celebrated the day with a few too many beers and a promise from Castiel that he would keep the kids busy. 

“He looks happy.”

Dean sighed, reaching up to lay his hand on the one brushing over his shoulder. “That’s because he is. Happy avoiding the real world.”

Castiel reached around Dean to lay a piece of paper on top of the laptop. “Here.”

The paper was a flyer for a house listing on the other side of town. Their current house had started showing signs of wear, thanks to its age, and after eight weeks of having repairmen going in and out — Castiel was ready to invest in something newer. 

“Looks nice,” Dean mused, flipping the page over to look at the pictures of the house on the back. “Bit big. What would we do with a whole separate apartment out back?”

“Well… your mom is going to be having her knee replacement surgeries soon, and we keep talking about how she’s not going to be able to make it up her stairs for a few weeks, at least.” Castiel moved around the table to sit in a nearby chair and shrugged. “I thought this would help. If it’s not enough space for her, we could always expand it — there’s more than enough room on the lot for that.”

Dean stared at the paper as a sudden thought occurred to him. If he said yes, and they looked into the house and moving Mary in with them — it would mean accepting that Sam probably wasn’t coming back.

The picture on the laptop screen still stared at him. The happiness in Sam’s eyes as he celebrated with his _new_ family.

After a year with no more than a couple letters, it was fairly obvious that Sam had no intentions of coming back to Kansas. Not any time soon, anyway.

“Let’s talk to her,” he whispered. “Take her out to see the place and see what she says.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If we keep a lifetime supply of white wine at hufflebutt's house we can continue getting hot stuff like this chapter.
> 
> Top!Sam and Bottom!Gabriel/Billy

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll feel pressured to do things you’re not sure you are ready to do._

\---

No matter how many times Sam claimed to be over Billy they both knew it was a load of crap. He finished his food at the diner, making small talk with Billy about how things had been in Argentina, before paying the tab and making the short walk back to the motel.

Billy paused halfway through the parking lot and motioned towards the convenience store nearby. “How about I buy a six pack and meet you at your room… what number you in?”

It was, in essence, the perfect opportunity to lie. He could give the wrong number and not worry about seeing Billy again or having to say goodbye. 

Instead he gave the correct number and spent the rest of the walk wondering how he could be such an idiot.

_Three years_ and he was making the same fucking mistakes that he had made at sixteen.

But if he didn’t stay in America… he was at least going to leave the country with a nice Billy-shaped notch in his bed post.

Back in his room, he picked up the discarded clothes and thanked the heavens for room cleaning services before kicking off his shoes and socks. He was just about to question where a bottle of lube and packet of condoms might be stashed, when there was a knock at the door. He opened it and smiled at the sight of Billy proudly brandishing a sixer of a local favorite. 

Once the door was shut, the beer was set down, and Billy’s shoes were kicked off, Sam grabbed the front of Billy’s shirt and shoved him up hard against the nearest wall. He looked down into more-than-a-little shocked golden eyes and waited only a breath before kissing Billy _hard_ with all the pent up frustration of way too many years.

It took a moment for Billy to start kissing Sam back. When he did, Sam noted with no small amount of smugness that he opened his mouth to Sam fully, letting him take what he wanted, what he needed. Sam could feel himself getting hard in his jeans and it was obvious that Billy was, too. He palmed the older man through his pants and relished the sensation when Billy groaned right into his mouth. Sam continued to grind up against him there on the wall as he slid his hands up Billy’s shirt.

“Oh Billy,” Sam gasped, trailing his lips down to Billy’s neck. “I should torture you like you used to torture me.” He shifted his hips, letting Billy feel every _inch_ of his length. “Suck you off through your underwear. Never touching enough to make it feel like you want it to.”

It was easy to feel the shudder that ran over Billy as he pushed Sam back for a moment. “Looks like you wanted to fuck me at the diner just as much as I wanted to fuck you.”

“Probably worse.” He gripped the center of Billy’s shirt and tugged hard enough for buttons to go flying as the garment fell open. Sam shoved the shirt off of Billy’s shoulders as he began kissing and nipping at every inch of bare skin he could find. “Going to fuck you so hard the whole motel hears you scream.”

“Shit, Sam.” Billy’s hands moved up to paw at Sam’s t-shirt - trying to pull it up and off of his muscled chest. “Can’t wait to see your dick. Been imagining what that cock feels like in my ass for _years._ ”

Sam pulled back and pulled his shirt off, before reaching forward to work on the buttons of Billy’s pants. When he shoved the tan capris to the floor, he moaned loudly at the sight of Billy’s cock slapping up against his stomach. “Fuck. Commando? You fucking _tease._ ” 

He pushed forward again, letting Billy’s bare back hit the wall as he reached down to stroke his naked cock. It was like a sensory overload - and despite all of Sam’s newfound knowledge and experience, he still felt like he could come in his pants if he wasn’t careful. 

Undoing his own pants, he shoved them off - along with his underwear - until he was finally naked… finally feeling Billy’s skin against his own. He claimed Billy’s mouth in another rough kiss as he wrapped his big hand around both of their cocks, stroking them at the same time.

“Mmm,” Billy groaned into his mouth and couldn’t keep his hips from bucking - driving their cocks closer together. “God, Sam. Want you so fucking bad.”

In a show of strength, Sam lifted Billy up so that his legs instinctually wrapped around Sam’s waist, and held him close as he turned and carried him across the room. He threw the smaller man onto the bed with a wicked smile on his face. “Not as bad as I want you.”

He kissed down Billy’s body for a moment, but stopped right before his belly button and pulled away. “Hold on.” Ignoring the look of impatience on Billy’s face, Sam moved over to his suitcase and felt around in the side pocket until he triumphantly held up a couple condoms and a bottle of lube. Moving back over to the bed, he threw the supplies next to Billy and crawled back over the other man’s body. “Okay. Where was I?”

"Right where I want you," Billy said, but they both knew any sense of bravado was purely for show.

Billy was not the one in charge.

Sam crawled onto the bed in front of Billy and began running his hands up the underside of Billy's thighs, stopping to dig his nails into the flesh just a shade harder than too hard. He chased the marks his fingernails left with kisses, ending with his face just beside Billy's cock. He planted one hand on Billy's hipbone and, with no preamble, sank his mouth down on Billy's hard, leaking cock. He hummed around its length, enjoying the taste he had dreamt about so many times, on so many lonely — and some admittedly not so lonely — nights.

"D-dammit, Sam," Billy stuttered. "Where the hell did you learn that?"

His mouth full, Sam gave no answer except a quirked eyebrow and a wink. He pressed the flat of his tongue against the underside of Billy's cock, and worked his mouth up to the head. He groped blindly around the bed with his free hand for the lube. Billy pushed it into his hand. Sam single-handedly flipped open the cap of the small bottle and smeared some of the cold liquid on his hand. Still sucking Billy down with all he had, Sam slid one slick finger up to Billy's hole and, waiting for Billy's, "Oh God yes, Sam, _please_ ," slipped the tip in. 

He crawled in closer to Billy's body, and angled his head so he could still blow Billy while also fingering him open. Billy's hands shook as they held onto Sam's hair, and he could feel strands of his hair fall loose around his face.

After Sam was comfortably fucking Billy on _three_ of his fingers, he withdrew both his hand and his mouth and sat back on his heels. He reached for the condom, and began to rip open the package, stopping only when he saw the barest hint of hesitation cross Billy's face.

"I, um, I don't usually—" Billy stammered, his face flushed, his eyes lust-blown.

"What, get your ass fucked?"

"I'm usually the one doing the fucking," Billy answered back.

"Do you trust me?" Sam asked.

Billy sat up and pulled Sam in for a long, deep, and dirty kiss. "So much," he said when they parted.

Sam pulled the condom out of its wrapper, and unrolled it onto himself. He squeezed more lube out of the bottle onto himself, and jerked his hand over his cock a few times. Billy opened his legs for him and Sam crawled in close, and lined his cock up with Billy's already fucked-out hole before he pushed inside.

Sam held still for a moment after he was seated fully inside Billy. He placed a few tender kisses on Billy's lips while he waited to feel the man under him relax. When Sam could feel Billy a little more at ease he pulled halfway out and moved his mouth next to the other man's ear. "Billy?" Sam said softly.

"Yeah?"

Sam had his hands around Billy's shoulders, gripping the man with his work-worn, calloused hands. "I missed you," he finished, and it was barely more than a whisper. He slid his cock back in, a little too hard to be entirely gentle.

"Holy, Jesus fuck, Sam!"

Apparently it wasn't too hard at all.

Sam began pumping his hips back and forth, Billy's hands scrabbling at his back as he picked up speed. Billy's ass was hot, and tight, and slick, and every little groan and whine that came out of Billy's mouth made Sam need to fuck him that much harder. The bed was creaking its angry protests against every thrust. Sam hadn't noticed Billy move along the bed but he was definitely crammed closer against the headboard now than he had been a few minutes previous. Billy had his legs wrapped around Sam, ankles crossed behind his back, pulling him in deeper with every move.

“God… dammit… Sam!” Billy breathed between thrusts. Finally he had to free his hands from around Sam’s shoulders, placing them behind his own head flat against the headboard, to get at least _some _leverage.__

__“Fuck, you’re so hot, do you like that?”_ _

__“Fuck, Sam, fuck me hard.”_ _

__Billy pushing back against the headboard had his body braced so Sam could fuck into him harder and deeper. He felt his orgasm building — slightly surprised he’d been able to hold off for this long — and let his rhythm become erratic._ _

__Apparently Billy was in a similar place because it was only a couple of beats later when he was literally screaming Sam’s name and shooting hot and warm between their stomachs. And that would have been enough to send Sam over the edge a thousand times. He pushed into Billy one last time, biting down into the meat of Billy’s shoulder while he came harder than he had in weeks._ _

__As he rolled onto the bed next to Billy a few moments later, he heard the unmistakable sound of someone slamming their fist into the wall in the next room over. “Keep it down, assholes!” a voice called out._ _

__Sam waited a moment before turning his head and catching Billy’s gaze — right before they both started laughing._ _


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to update. If you're reading Submersion, you'll understand why my muse has been busy. (Also I couldn't seem to make _any_ of this happen)
> 
> Seriously though - this chapter would not be in existence without hufflecas' poking and prodding. So thank her for it.
> 
> I feel like this story is reaching it's conclusion. I would predict 3-4 chapters? We'll see. Thanks for your patience!

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll think you’ll be together forever._

\---

The next morning found Sam feeling more than a little unease. Billy was still passed out on the bed, stark naked and apparently not one bit ashamed of that fact. Sam woke up first, and eased himself out of the bed slowly as to not wake the other man. Retrieving his shorts from the floor, he slipped them on before moving to the bathroom to empty his bladder. Returning to the main room, he stared at Billy's naked ass peeking out from under the sheets. The previous night’s activities came back to him in a rush — and all the panting, licking, biting, and fucking that that had entailed.

Sam felt his cock start to harden in his boxers. His body obviously wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and take on round three with Billy. His head, however… wasn’t sure what he wanted. Or what could potentially be a huge disaster.

"Would you stop staring at me and get back in bed, Samsquatch?" a voice mumbled from the vicinity of the bed. 

Sam stood there, not sure what to do.

\---

“This is a bad idea.”

“Shut up. This is the only idea we have.”

“If he’s here to see us, then we should let him come to us on his own time.”

“Are you with me or not? Because _I’m_ going to see him.”

“Dean — you’re all but ambushing him here. Maybe he isn’t ready for this.”

“Well, he’s had three long years to _get_ ready.” Dean continued up the stairs to the second floor of the motel, walking towards the room where his brother was supposedly staying. They had received the call that morning — the motel manager that they had worked with to reserve a block of rooms for their guests had worried that one guest had slipped through without being given the discounted rate.

The words ‘Do you know a Sam Winchester?’ had made Dean’s blood run cold. He knew a Sam Winchester _very_ well — and at the present moment he had a few choice words for the kid.

When he got to the right door, he stopped and turned back to see Castiel standing a couple feet away still looking nervous. They had left the kids with Mary, who was busy working on a few last minute alterations to wedding plans. It wasn’t like they could bring the whole crew to greet Sam — _that_ , Dean could admit, would be overwhelming.

He raised his fist and knocked on the door, ignoring his fiancé’s groan. Castiel had shared his opinion. Dean would continue to reject it.

A moment after he knocked, a familiar voice called through the door, “We don’t need housekeeping, thanks though!”

Dean’s eyes flew to Castiel. _No. No way._ That was a familiar voice — but it was _not_ Sam’s. Castiel looked just as confused and shrugged his shoulders, pointing back at the door. 

Dean knocked again… harder.

The door was pulled open as Billy said, “Habla usted Inglés?” When he looked up, obviously not expecting Dean to be standing there instead of an unassuming cleaning lady, the smile dropped off his face.

Dean was staring at Billy. _Billy._ Wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and standing in a room registered to his _brother_... and then it got worse. 

Past the door, Dean could see the bathroom door opening across the room. Sam stepped out, steam billowing around him, wearing only a _towel._ “Your Spanish accent is terrib—”

Sam’s voice cut off when he saw Dean.

A few beats of awkward silence seeped down around them, until finally something snapped inside of Dean. He moved in a flash — pulling his arm up and back, and slamming his fist into Billy’s nose.

He would have followed Billy to the ground and kept punching if it weren’t for Castiel’s quick reflexes and tight grasp on his arms, holding him back. “You sonuvabitch! What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing!”

“Me?” Billy blanched from the floor, holding his hands against his bleeding nose. “You punched me! What are _you_ doing!”

Sam moved across the room and dropped down next to Billy, assessing the damage and trying to help him sit up. “Oh my God, Dean, what the hell is your problem?”

Dean shook his head and growled at Billy, “Stay. Away. From. Sam.”

“What, it was good enough for you, but not your little brother?”

Castiel pulled at Dean’s shoulders, trying to get him out of the doorway. “Maybe we should come back _later_ , Dean.”

“Fuck that. I want an explanation _now._ ” Dean was practically stomping his foot and pouting as well as Boston normally did.

Sam was back on his feet after having helped Billy onto the bed, and held the towel closed as he glared at his brother. “I don’t think you deserve explanations, Dean. I don’t think you deserve anything. You show up here and cause a scene like you have _any_ say over my life — and then expect me to explain what’s going on? No.”

Dean wrestled his right arm free and pointed towards Billy. “Did you sleep with that bastard? Did he tell you about how he and I had a thing once?” Dean shook his head. “I _warned_ you that he was a fucking sex addict, and your answer was to sleep with him as soon as you got back?”

“Back the fuck off, Dean,” Sam growled. “Or you won’t see me again for _another_ three years.”

The words stung exactly like Sam had intended them to. Dean glared at Billy one last time before shrugging Castiel’s touch off and turning to storm away. He could hear Castiel whispering an apology, but he didn’t care. He was too angry. It was betrayal, that his brother would finally come back, only to fall into Billy’s arms.

Maybe that was the only reason why he had come home in the first place.

Dean got in the passenger side of the car and slammed the door shut. A couple minutes later when Castiel climbed inside, Dean crossed his arms over his chest and avoided his fiancé’s gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

\---

Billy’s nose thankfully wasn’t broken. It made it easier to send him away with a quick ‘I seriously need time to think.’

Despite Billy’s attempts at explaining that _one blowjob_ didn’t mean he and Dean had been involved, Sam still needed some time alone. As soon as he had shut himself inside his motel room, he pulled out his phone and dialed Zeke’s number. The charges would be outrageous, but he didn’t care.

He needed someone to talk to that understood him well enough to offer sound advice.

“Sam!” Ezekiel answered, cheerfully. “What are you doing, fool? You can’t afford to call me.”

Sam sighed, laying back against the bed. “I wanna come home, Zeke.”

The cheerfulness seeped away. “That bad?”

“Worse.”

Sam heard Zeke huff a humourless laugh on the other line. “Is it Dean or Billy?”

“Both!” Sam exclaimed with a groan.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“That really is worse.”

“Fat lot of help you are.”

Zeke laughed again, “Fine. Waste your money and tell me the whole story.”

Sam did just that — explaining everything from sleeping with Billy, to Dean showing up and punching Billy and then announcing that he had once received a blowjob from the guy. By the end of the rant, Sam was sure his phone bill would be exponential. 

Zeke took a few minutes to collect his thoughts before replying. “Sam, do you like Billy?” 

“All of that—” Sam frowned. “All of that and all I get is a stupid question about whether or not I like Billy? Of course I like him. I wouldn’t have fucked him if I didn’t like him!”

“Before Dean showed up, were you planning on being with Billy again?”

He sighed. “I hadn’t decided.”

“Does Dean’s arrival and subsequent confession have any impact on your decision?”

“No. Not really.”

“Then figure out whether or not you want to turn this thing with Billy into more than a one-night-stand, and you will feel better.” Zeke took a deep breath. “And for God’s sake, find your brother and fucking _talk to him._ ”

“But—”

“No ‘but’s, Sam. You flew all the way up there from Argentina to work shit out with your family. Man up and deal with it.” Sam could practically see Zeke’s smirk in his mind. “Tommy says hello. Call or email once you get your shit worked out. I love you, you dumb moose.”

“Goodbye Zeke. Sloppy kisses to you and Tommy.”

\---

That evening Sam stepped into the diner next to his motel and immediately spotted a familiar face sitting in one of the booths. He waved the hostess off and moved over to slide into the empty spot across from his brother. As he sat, he noticed that the window the booth lined had a clear view of his motel room door.

“Working up the nerve?” he asked.

“Just enjoying the pie,” Dean answered. He motioned to the table and Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

Instead of one slice of pie… Dean had the whole thing sitting in front of him. “You aren’t going to fit into your wedding dress if you eat all of that,” he teased.

Dean slid an extra set of silverware in Sam’s direction. “Better help me eat it then. So,” Dean said, not looking at Sam. “Billy gonna be alright?”

“He’ll live.”

They took more than a few bites in silence, neither one knowing how to broach the topics of everything they needed to discuss. Finally, Dean held his spoon midair and looked to Sam. “It hurt, Sammy. I don’t think you realize how much everything over the last three years has hurt me.”

“Dean…” Sam sighed, and twirled the utensils around on the table once. “None of this was ever about you.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me? Tell me you were… you know. I mean, you can’t exactly say _I’m_ a homophobe.”

Sam stared down at the whipped cream on top of Dean’s pie and dug his spoon through it for a moment before replying. “Mom kept talking about how hard it was for her — walking through town and having people look at her differently. She said she loved and supported you and Cas, but was glad I would one day marry a pretty girl.”

“Sammy, you know I love Mom more than just about anyone, but she shouldn’t have said that. She just, _she had no idea._ ” He put his spoon down. “You know what she said when you came out to her in that letter of yours? After she stopped crying?”

He frowned, not quite sure he _wanted_ to know. “Wh.. what?”

“She said, and I quote, ‘Maybe he won’t be so sad anymore.’” Dean picked up his spoon again and resumed shoveling pie into his mouth.

The words hurt more than he’d thought they could. He had thought about calling his mom a million times while he was gone. It was always cowardice and fear that had stopped him. “I went out to the house right after I got back. Everything’s gone.”

Dean shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. Cas and I got a place on the other side of town, and with you gone, and us not next door anymore the old place was just too big for her.”

“Where’s Mom now?”

“The new house we bought had an extra suite on the back side of the yard. We fixed it up, did a little landscaping — she’s got a pretty awesome setup.” Dean looked down at his food as he chased a lone piece of apple around the plate. “You should come see it some time.”

“Did you tell her that I’m back in town?”

“No. I thought she’d want to hear it from you first.”

“Thanks.” Sam waited a long moment, before setting his spoon down on his napkin and looking straight at Dean. “So…”

“So?”

“I assume my invitation got lost in the mail?”

Dean looked at his brother. “You seriously never got it?”

“Seriously. I had no idea you were getting married until the motel manager told me.” Sam frowned. “Wait… you sent one? How did you know where I was?” Dean’s eyes got big and he immediately tried to backtrack, but Sam was having none of it. “Did you know all along where I was?”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “Not… _all_ along. I searched for a few months before your _ahem_ ‘adopted’ father finally heard I was looking and gave me a call. After that, he sent me regular updates via email.”

“And you sent that wedding invite to them?”

“Yeah.”

Sam laughed. “Well I guess it really did get lost in the mail. They moved about three months ago, and when you move down there — sometimes having mail forwarded is a bit of a lost cause.”

“See? Not my fault.” Dean chuckled and licked his spoon clean before setting it aside as well. “You know you look good. The tan suits you — and when the fuck did you get so tall?” He reached across the table and pulled at Sam’s long hair. “Need a haircut before the wedding, though.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“You like it that long?”

“Maybe.”

Dean laughed once more and shook his head. “So, Sammy, do you want to come to my big gay wedding?”


	13. Chapter 13

_First Love Mistakes: You’ll act stupid when you realize the truth._

\---

When Mary saw Sam she wouldn’t let him go for an hour. The tears eventually stopped falling but she kept one hand entwined in his as she talked about how much she missed him and how happy she was to see him again. No matter how many times Sam said he was sorry, it still didn’t feel like it was enough.

Seeing Dean and Cas’ kids blew his mind. Boston was old enough for kindergarten and Brooklyn was the same age that Bo had been when Sam had left. She barely remembered her uncle, but it only took one game of ‘Uncle Sam is a horsey’ in the backyard for the kids to fall in love with him all over again. It was refreshing to hear their laughter and look up and see his mother and brother smiling from the back porch. 

When Dean suggested they grab Sam’s things from the motel and bring it back to set up in the spare bedroom, he couldn’t find a reason to argue. He borrowed the keys to Dean’s minivan (“Shut up, Sam, it’s _family friendly._ And Castiel’s.”) and headed back into town.

Sam was halfway through packing up his clothes and straightening up the room when a knock sounded on the door. He frowned, staring at the door and trying to find his nerve. It had to be Billy — there was no one else it could be. But Sam had been avoiding him for two days for a _very_ good reason. 

He didn’t know what the fuck to say to the other man. He didn’t know what he wanted. All he knew was that Zeke was right — any history between Billy and Dean had nothing to do with Sam’s indecisiveness. 

There was another knock, softer, and Sam moved across the room to open the door. Billy had a butterfly bandage along the bridge of his nose, holding closed an inch long cut from where Dean had hit him. He looked tired and unsure of himself as he scratched the back of his neck.

For the first time since Sam had met the man those few years ago, Billy was wearing nothing more exciting than a pair of worn-out blue jeans and a black t-shirt. 

It was like Billy had been using his outrageous fashion sense as a defense system — and now it was gone. All Sam could see was the man beneath and it took his breath away. He couldn’t seem to find any words. Billy looked stripped down, and it was beautiful.

“So,” Billy began, looking at the floor, “I’m sure you’re still mad… and to be honest, if I were in your shoes I would be pretty pissed off too. But I couldn’t just sit back and watch you walk away again. I had to be here. Had to tell you that I’m sorry for fucking up three years ago. It’s just — you were so _young_ , Sam. I kept praying that I was just a crazy teenage thing that you would get over. I thought that if I stepped away from the temptation I would stop wanting you... And fuck, I’m rambling — please, say something.” When Billy finally looked up, his eyes were pleading, and at that moment he looked for all the world like the younger of the two of them.

Sam waited another blink before stepping aside and motioning for the older man to join him in the motel room. Once the door was shut again, he took a deep breath to steel himself, and turned to face Billy. “Why are you here, Billy? What do you want? A fuck buddy? Do you need to get me out of your system?”

From the way Dean had talked about Billy, that was what Sam expected. Dean had made Billy out to be a sex-fueled maniac and, really, Sam had only seen a few glimpses of his personality beyond that.

“No.” Billy quickly shook his head, his eyes obviously avoiding looking at the tangled sheets on the bed. 

Sam could understand that. He had spent hours trying to fall asleep the night before in them, still overwhelmed by Billy’s lingering scent. He brushed the thoughts away. “No?”

“I mean — yes, I want sex — but _no_ that’s not all I want you to be. I’m too old for that shit now, Sam. I don’t want a fuck buddy or a friend with _really excellent_ benefits. I want _you._ ” Billy had moved closer to Sam but was obviously still hesitant to touch him.

“Me?” Sam ached to close the gap between them.

“You. I want… to date you.”

Sam huffed a laugh. “Dean won’t like that.”

“Screw him. If you don’t care, I don’t care. We’re both adults. As long as you and I both consent, I don’t see why any of that should be a problem.” A glimpse of fear and trepidation washed over Billy’s face. “Right?”

Sam crossed the space then, leaning down and taking Billy’s face in both of his hands. Getting in close, he pressed his lips to Billy’s. The other man froze at first, before relenting into the kiss. As they parted, Sam brushed his thumb along Billy’s lip. “Right,” he said.

\---

All good plans had downsides, of course. The most glaring downside to Billy’s particular plan was the fact that he currently resided in Los Angeles. He managed one side of Castiel’s business from that location, while Castiel handled all that he could in Kansas. Sam sat against the headboard on the guest bed at his brother’s house and stared at the text message on his phone explaining exactly that.

 **Billy Mckenna:** _I feel like I should say this now. I live in la, sam. IDK how thatll change us. I hope it dont._

Sam knocked his head back against the wood a couple of times before he remembered Brooklyn’s bedroom was on the other side of the wall. He looked back down at his phone but didn’t know what to say. How could they make a relationship work when Billy lived and worked a thousand miles away? Sam had just stepped back into his family’s lives — he couldn’t walk away again to chase some guy. Even if that guy was Billy.

_I guess phones and computers are a thing for a reason. You aren’t going back until after the wedding right?_

**Billy Mckenna:** _Fly out the morning after._

That left them with two nights before Billy left — and one of those nights would be consumed by Dean and Castiel’s wedding. Sam sighed. He had gotten a taste of what sex with Billy was like, and he wasn’t ready to give it up so soon.

_Can we do something tomorrow night?_

**Billy Mckenna:** _Id like that, yea._

_Good. I gotta sleep. Dean says the kids wake up early. Gnight, Billy._

**Billy Mckenna:** _Goodnight Sam sweet dreams._

Sam read back through their conversation before turning off his phone, and the light, and scooted down under the blankets.

\---

“Is he dead?”

“Nah, he’s breathin’, see. Hold your hand by his nose.”

Sam felt little fingers tickling along the stubbly hair beneath his nose. A weight shifted on the bed, followed by a soft giggle. He knew that the kids were on his bed with him, but out of curiosity he had decided to remain ‘sleeping’ to figure out what they would do.

“Ya think he’ll play horsey again today?” Brooke asked, her voice soft and cheery. The giggle had obviously belonged to her.

“Papa said we can’t play until we try on our fancy clothes one more time.” Bo, ever the older brother, set his sister straight. “‘Sides, I get first dibs this time.”

“Nah uh!”

“Uh huh!”

From elsewhere in the house Dean’s voice could be heard yelling, “You kids better not be messing with your uncle!”

The kids seemed to still at that, and Sam waited just a moment longer before sitting up quickly and yelling, “Rawr!” As expected, the sound and sudden movement caught the kids by surprise and they both let out shrill screams of terror. Bo quickly jumped off the bed and fled the room, his squeals already turned to laughter, but Brooke seemed frozen as she stared at Sam with big wet tears in her eyes. He felt his heart thump as he sat up and pulled her into his arms. “Oh no, kiddo, don’t cry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to actually scare you that badly.”

Her tears started to fall and her shoulders began to shake as Dean rounded the corner and stepped into Sam’s room. “What in the world is going on in here?”

“Papa!” Brooklyn cried out, before scrambling out of Sam’s arms and racing to Dean. He picked her up without hesitation and she buried her face against his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said quickly. “They were sitting on the bed trying to figure out if I was alive, and I jumped up and scared them like you used to do with me. It was maybe a little much.”

Dean shook his head with a soft laugh and kissed Brooklyn’s temple. “Snookerdoodle, I told you not to bother Uncle Sam, didn’t I?” It took a moment, but she finally began to nod her head. “He didn’t mean to scare you, baby. He was just being goofy. Do you forgive him?” Another moment, another nod. “Wanna go give him a hug? Tell him you’re sorry for waking him up?”

Dean waited until she nodded hesitantly, before placing her back on the floor. She made her way to Sam’s bed, climbing up quickly and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Sam hugged her back, kissing her nose when she said she was sorry for waking him. “I know, Brooke. I forgive you. I love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Uncle Sammy.” She wiggled in his arms after a moment and he let her go. She jumped back down off the bed and ran past Dean to search for her brother. 

“So,” Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am sorry about that, but you needed to be woken up anyways. If you’re gonna be in this big gay shindig, you’re gonna need to go get fitted for a tux.”

“They gonna be able to make that happen with a day’s notice?”

“Castiel knows people that owe him favors. So if the tuxedo shop seems like a front for the mob, don’t say anything about it.” Dean winked. “You didn’t see _nothin’_.”

At that comment, Sam grabbed the spare pillow on the bed and threw it in his brother’s direction. “You’re such a fucking nerd.”

Dean laughed. “And you’re a sorry excuse for a pillow fighter. Now get your lazy ass out of bed and get dressed. We leave in thirty minutes.” He turned to leave the room, pulling the door shut behind him. At the last second though, he leaned back in and told Sam, “Also, watch the language, dipshit.”

The door shut on Sam’s laughter. He was surprised by how good it felt to be home again. To have his brother back, truly.

It was almost perfect. He just hoped it would stay that way once Dean found out that Sam had every intention of dating Billy McKenna.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of warning:
> 
> This is chapter 14 of 15. Eep.
> 
> TopBilly/BottomSam

_First Love Mistakes: Even if your family understands -- they won’t understand._

\---

Billy showed up at Dean and Castiel’s house at a quarter to five in his rental car. Since Sam wasn’t ready to deal with his brother’s drama, he’d asked Billy to simply wait at the end of the driveway and text about his arrival. When Sam folded himself into the small car, he shook his head and laughed. “Think you can find a smaller car next time?”

With a snort, Billy replied, “I don’t think they make moose-mobiles, unfortunately.” He glanced beyond Sam, back up the driveway, before grabbing Sam’s collar and pulling him close for a passionate kiss.

Sam returned the kiss, savoring the taste and feel of Billy’s mouth against his own. Billy tasted like coffee and jelly beans and Sam couldn’t get enough. “So, one last hurrah, hey?” Sam did his best to keep his tone light and cheerful.

“Only for a little while, Sammy.” He put the car into drive, his right handle settling on Sam’s thigh. “So I don’t have any real plans — I just figured we could pick up a pizza or something and then drive until we find a nice quiet spot outside of town.” 

A curl of desire snaked its way through Sam’s gut. _A nice quiet spot,_ his brain played back at him, _outside of town._ It was taking a fair amount of Sam’s willpower to not crawl across the cramped space and grind into Billy then and there. But they had all night. “Do you remember the last time we shared a pizza?” 

“You mean back when you tripped your way to a broken foot, got gooned out of your mind on pain meds, and jumped me?”

Sam squeezed the hand that was still resting on his leg. “Not my finest moment,” he conceded with a smile. “But, in all fairness, you were begging to be jumped.”

“Well, jailbait, you were begging to be fucked. Testing my self-control with every move you made.” Billy flicked the blinker on and turned into the local pizza joint. “I already called ahead and ordered.” He shut off the car. “I’m gonna grab it real fast, be right back.”

Left to his thoughts and the silence of the car, Sam pulled out his phone. No new messages, notifications on silent. He vowed to leave it alone for the rest of the night. He could see Billy through the glass front of the small pizzeria. Sam watched him carefully, enjoying the ease with which Billy carried himself. Sam would miss this.

A couple more minutes and Billy walked back out to the car, carrying a pizza box and two bottles of soda. He put the items into the backseat of the car before climbing back behind the wheel. “So, you know any good places to hide out? You’re the one that grew up here.”

Sam breathed in the warm cheese and tomato smell permeating the car. He couldn’t deny he was pretty hungry, too. “You know what, I do. Go back down Hemlock but make a right on Abbott, and follow it to the end.”

“You’re the boss, Samsquatch,” Billy said as he backed the car out of the parking lot.

The silence with Billy was so comfortable that Sam didn’t even bother playing with the radio. He rested his left hand on Billy’s leg and they rode hand in hand most of the way.

“This what you had in mind?” Billy asked as he pulled into another parking lot. It was surrounded by trees, dotted on one end by picnic tables, and a crystal blue lake was visible beyond.

“Yeah,” Sam shrugged. “Used to come here all the time with Mom and Dean when I was a kid. “It’s nice, and for some reason there’s not usually a lot of people here.” Before Billy could park, Sam motioned to a small side road that was almost completely overgrown by weeds. “Turn there. Drive another half a mile and we’ll be on the other side of the lake.”

By the time they finally stopped, they were in a clearing just large enough for the car, sitting twenty feet from the edge of the lake. Billy reached into the back of the car and grabbed the pizza and sodas and they ate in companionable silence.

Sam wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin after his third slice and washed it down with a generous swig of Dr. Pepper. “Kind of crazy to think our brothers are getting married tomorrow, huh? Well, I guess Cas isn’t technically your brother.”

Billy shrugged. “He may as well be. I spend more time with him and the kids than my actual family.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” Billy tossed the empty pizza box in the back seat. “You know about my sister — one day I’ll get drunk and tell you about the rest of them.”

Sam snorted a laugh. “I’m sorry they’re that bad.”

“They are. But, what’s family for, right?” He leaned forward and tucked a stray piece of hair behind Sam’s ear. “I’m just glad yours didn’t chase you away forever.”

Sam closed the space between them and pressed his lips to Billy’s. “Me too.” They grinned as they rested their foreheads together.

“So before this gets too maudlin, can I tell you how incredibly fuckable you look today?”

Sam laughed. “If that’s true, then I’m in good company. I may or may not have been checking you out while you paid for the pizza.”

Billy ran his hands down over his tight jeans. “It’s the pants, right? I knew you’d like my ass in these.”

“So this was pre-meditated, then?” Sam raised his eyebrows, looking as scandalized as possible. “Billy McKenna, are you trying to _seduce me?_ ”

He groaned, shifting closer to Sam over the center console. “Is it working?”

Sam kissed the tip of Billy’s nose, before tilting his head with a single finger and kissing along Billy’s scruffy neck. “Considering how badly I want you to fuck me right now, I’d say yes.”

The noise that ripped itself out of Billy’s throat was downright sinful. “Fuck, Sam,” he said. “You have no idea how badly I want that right now.”

“But?”

“But — you barely fit in this damn car sitting down. How are we supposed to get you all spread out?”

Sam ran a hand up the inside of Billy’s thigh, closing his grip gently around Billy’s hard-on. “Maybe we should take this party outside?” Sam had never seen someone jump out of a car so quickly. As soon as the suggestion was spoken, Billy was throwing his door open and climbing out. Sam followed suit, but frowned in confusion when Billy popped the hatch on the trunk and began rummaging inside it. “What are you—”

The trunk lid slammed shut and Billy triumphantly held up a bottle of lube and a condom. “Now you’re really gonna think I was planning on seducing you.”

“Or that you just consider sex supplies to be regular car gear. Either way,” Sam pulled Billy in close to him by his belt loops, “I’m in.”

Billy leaned to his left to place the supplies at the top of the hood, where they could lean against the windshield and not roll away. Once his hands were free, he was wrapped around Sam — pulling at too-long hair and devouring Sam’s mouth with demanding kisses.

Desperate hands roamed over each others’ bodies, pulling at clothing, searching for skin to paw at. Billy kissed his way down Sam’s throat — pausing to suck a purple mark below his clavicle — before sinking to his knees and breathing hot against the very obvious bulge in Sam’s jeans.

“Shit, Billy,” Sam groaned as Billy slowly worked his jeans down his legs. A breath later, wet lips were sliding down over his hard cock and Sam was gripping the car to keep his legs from buckling. Billy made ridiculous slurping noises when sucking cock — and it would probably be annoying if it was anyone else, but with Billy it was kind of the hottest thing Sam had ever heard. 

Billy suddenly pulled away, causing Sam to pout and whimper, but instead of standing he simply held his hand out and said, “Hand me the lube.”

Sam reached over his shoulder and fumbled blindly for the bottle, knocking it over twice before successfully closing his fingers around it. He passed it to Billy, breathless with lust and anticipation.

It didn’t take long for Billy’s lips to wrap back around Sam’s cock — but this time they were joined by a slick finger brushing circles around his hole. Sam clenched his right hand in Billy’s golden hair and rocked his hips forward into wet heat and backwards into the slow burn of Billy pushing his finger inside.

Sam widened his stance a little, shifting his hips to let Billy sink his finger in further. “Please, Billy,” he panted. “Need it so bad.”

Billy hummed against Sam’s cock, bringing his attention to the sensation, and then pushed another finger in — joining the first finger as deep as possible. Sam’s legs shook and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. There was a sweet pressure on his prostate as Billy began scissoring his fingers to stretch Sam open. It was _so fucking good._

“Fuck, Billy,” Sam groaned as the other man pulled off his cock and looked up at him through lidded eyes. 

“Yeah? You want my cock, Sammy?” Sam nodded enthusiastically and tried for a ‘please’ as Billy pulled away and stood up. “Lay out over the hood and spread your legs as far as possible. This might take a bit of maneuvering to work well.”

Sam had always been praised as a good student and attentive listener. So when Billy told him to spread out over the hood of the rental car — he did so without hesitation. He thanked years of yoga for the distance he could get his legs comfortably spread to, and held his body far enough off of the car so that his hard cock wouldn’t chafe on the sleek chrome. When he blinked his eyes open again, the condom was missing from its spot, and the lube was back in place. 

Billy’s body pressed along Sam’s back like a favorite blanket. He kissed in various patterns over Sam’s tan skin, as he shifted his hips and slid his slick cock between Sam’s asscheeks. It was the promise of something fucking delicious and Sam was tired of waiting. He reached back with one hand, groping to pull Billy’s hips flush against his ass.

“Fuck, Sam,” Billy breathed, sounding awe-struck. “You need it bad, don’t you?”

“You have no fucking ide—ah!” Sam gasped as Billy slid home, seating himself inside, his fingers kneading Sam’s hips.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Sam,” Billy said, leaning over to bite kisses and scrape his teeth over where Sam’s shirt was rucked up his back. “Fucking dreamed about being buried inside you.” 

Sam whimpered and rolled his hips, enjoying the fullness. It had been quite a few months since the last time he bottomed. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it — it was usually that his partners saw his height and automatically assumed he loved to top. In reality, just the feeling of a hard cock buried in his ass was enough to already have him teetering on the edge of ecstasy. “Not as much as I thought about you fucking me. Every—” he gasped as Billy began to move, “Every time I saw you, I imagined your cock in my ass.”

“Fuck Sam, I wanted your tight virgin ass so bad I was half-convinced I’d get hauled off to jail just for thinking it too loudly.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, twisting around to see the delicious sight of Billy slowly coming apart. “And how’s — unnh — how’s my ass now?”

“So. Fucking. Tight.” Billy began to pump in earnest, each drag of his cock pulling over Sam’s prostate.

Sam held himself balanced on one arm so that he could reach his right hand down between the car and his body and wrap it around his cock. He timed his strokes with Billy’s and in an instant he was _there_ — pumping white strips of come along his fist and the hood of the car. 

His ass clenched tight around Billy’s cock as he orgasmed, and it was obviously enough to send Billy over the edge as well. The older man shouted “Fuck, Sam!” loud enough for anyone in a one mile radius to hear, and came hard inside of Sam.

Sam let his head thump against the car as he caught his breath, still riding the last few waves of pleasure. He was acutely aware of each one of Billy's movements, of how every inch of his skin was still humming. 

Billy pulled out, and ditched the condom in a nearby trash can. " _That,_ " he said, walking back over to the car as Sam turned onto his back, "was fucking brilliant." He melted into Sam, burying his face in the crook of the taller man's neck. "I love you so much."

 _Whoa._ Sam’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at Billy’s words. _That_ was not what he was expecting. He brushed sweaty strands of blond hair from Billy’s face and looked down to meet his golden eyes. “You do?”

"Shit." Billy's eyes widened, the reality of what he'd just said obviously reaching his brain on a delay. "Shit, shit, shit. Sam, I'm—"

Sam could only laugh at his lover's panic — it was too adorable. "Billy," he said, cupping Billy's face in both his hands. "It's okay. I love you too."

To be fair, it was terrible timing. They had only one more day together before Billy had to leave. Back to Los Angeles. Back to a different life. 

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Sam’s stomach. Instead of dwelling on it, though, he chose to pull Billy even closer and ignore the inevitable.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially the last chapter of Paper Cups. In the future additional one-shots might be added to the verse, but for now - this is the end.
> 
> This super-duper long chapter is dedicated to Jesse, who I know is having a rough day today. <3 Hope an update from your favorite story helps.

_First Love Mistakes: Ends are just beginnings._

\---

The morning of the wedding, Dean and Castiel’s normally bustling farmhouse was all-the-way-chaotic. Sam took it upon himself to be the one to make sure his brother both kept his head screwed on and got fully dressed. He kept his laughter to himself as he watched his normally-composed older brother run around in a semi-frantic state. He had to remind Dean no less than nine times that their mother and assorted other family members were watching the kids, and _’Yes Dean, they’re fine. Put your pants on.’_

It was good that Sam had something to focus on — something other than the fact that Billy would be moving fifteen hundred miles away from him the next day.

The afternoon ceremony was held in their backyard, and it was beautiful. Sam and Billy both were among the small group of groomsmen (and one groomslady) that stood with Dean and Castiel. Sam had never been in a wedding before, but he knew that he should be watching the ceremony — not sneaking glances at the man who’d had his cock buried in Sam’s ass not twelve hours prior. Billy, however, was playing the part perfectly. Sam would have bet that anyone watching the wedding party wouldn’t even guess that they knew each other.

Finally the officiant was announcing them “husband and husband” and a deluge of white paper planes was being tossed after the two grinning men as they walked hand-in-hand back down the aisle.

Across the large yard a party tent was set up with tables, a DJ, and the dance floor. The crowd of guests made their way to the tent for refreshments while the wedding party stayed behind to pose for pictures. Sam wasn’t quite sure how — but Billy somehow managed to sneak over and stand next to him in every photo. 

By the time his face was cramping from smiling, they were done and walking towards the tent. Before he could follow his brother (and new _brother-in-law_ ) into the tent, his hand was grabbed and Sam was quickly pulled to a private spot between the house and the tent. Billy immediately pulled him down for a hard kiss that Sam happily returned. When it broke off, Billy smirked. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“Really?” Sam let his teeth snag on his bottom lip when he smiled. “I’ve kinda been wanting you to do that all day,” he replied. “But we should probably keep on with the brotherly duty thing. You know, head table and toasts and all that.”

Billy pouted, fingers brushing through Sam’s ponytail. “Just one more?” 

Sam glanced back to where the happy couple was mingling with their guests. He stooped to Billy’s level, obliging the older man one more kiss. “Come on, before they notice we’re gone.”

Billy winked at Sam as he snaked out around him first. Sam looked at Billy’s hands, wondering what would happen if he just grabbed one of them, and held on until they reached their seats. But Sam didn’t get that chance, because Billy stuck both of his hands resolutely in his pockets as he strode towards the rest of the wedding guests.

Halfway through dinner, little Miss Brooklyn strolled over to Sam’s chair and demanded to be held. He pulled the girl onto his lap and smiled as she began sneaking bites of his dinner. He poked the ticklish spot on her side and feigned anger. “I wanted to eat that piece of chicken.”

In true three-year-old fashion, Brooklyn pulled the half-chewed bite of food out of her mouth and held it out to him. “Here you go.”

“Brooklyn!” Dean hissed, catching sight of what was going on from his seat. “Keep your food in your _mouth._ ”

Brooklyn returned the chicken to her mouth, giggling around the food. Sam sniggered. Kids sure could be gross — his niece generally more so than her brother — but he kind of loved that about them. He kissed her forehead and smiled as someone called for the cake to be cut. “Ohh, Brooke, we get to have cake soon.”

“Yum!” She wiggled off of his lap and moved to stand between her dads’ chairs, demanding that they hurry up and cut the cake so she could have some.

Sam looked over at where Billy sat at the opposite end of the head table. He was talking animatedly with the woman who worked for Dean and Cas’ business. Sam couldn’t get his attention.

That was probably for the best, but that didn’t make it hurt less. Why was Billy being so distant? Sam pushed up from the table and moved over to talk with some of his cousins while the cake was cut. He got so caught up in conversation, that he barely noticed when the whole thing had been devoured and Dean and Cas took their place on the dance floor to dance to their first song. 

From the sidelines of the tent, sitting and listening to a story told by his great-aunt, Sam watched as Dean and Cas danced through two songs before the kids were bubbling around their legs and demanding attention. A new song began to play as a strong hand landed on his shoulder and a whisper of breath tickled the hair behind his ear.

“Wanna cause a scene?”

“Wasn’t sure you even knew I was still here.” Sam knew he was being a little petulant, but he didn’t care.

Billy rolled his eyes dramatically before holding his hand out to Sam. “Come on. This is my jam.”

“Dean’s gonna see,” Sam said, his eyes darting to the newlyweds.

“That’s sort of the point. Also, I couldn’t care less. Are you coming, or not? Because one of Dean’s high school girlfriend’s has been trying to put the moves on me all night and I could always—”

Sam stood, grinning, and took Billy’s outstretched hand. “Come on.”

Though Sam would have liked to say that time stood still when he danced with Billy, or that everything around them went silent and dark. It didn’t.

Sam was acutely aware of his brother dancing only a few feet away — he just didn’t care. It was a slow song, a sweet one that Sam had heard before but couldn’t quite name. He wrapped his arms around Billy’s waist, pulling him in close as the older man reached up to sweep away a stray strand of hair. 

“Your hair’s getting so damn long,” Billy said, “it’s gonna be down to your ass by the time I see you next.”

His stomach dropped at the reminder. Billy’s plane left so early the next morning that they were literally spending their last hours together right there in front of friends and family.

Who knew when their next meeting would be? Sam had to focus on finding work and his own apartment — he wouldn’t have the time or the money for jet-setting to see his boyfriend in California. Not for a while. And he knew Billy had a full schedule too.

A small part of him wanted to push Billy away, to get some space, to practice having distance between them, but instead he tipped his head forward, dropping it down on Billy’s shoulder as they continued to dance.

\---

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Brooke?”

“Are Uncle Billy and Uncle Sammy getting married next?”

“The way it looks, Brooklyn, _maybe._ ”

“Awesome. They’re adorkable.”

“A _dor_ able.”

“Adorkable.”

\---

“Uh-oh,” Sam said, pulling slightly away from Billy.

Billy’s eyes narrowed. “ _Uh-oh?_ What uh-oh?”

“We’ve been made,” Sam said, smiling, as he pointed over Billy’s shoulder to where Castiel was dancing with his daughter. Castiel winked when he saw Sam looking at them, and Brooklyn waved.

Billy waved back, before chuckling. “I thought you would be more worried about the spot behind you where your brother and mom are pretending to dance while they size us up.” 

Sam buried his head against Billy’s neck, wanting only to hide, before realizing the move only gave him away even more. “Shit.” He raised his head and, sure enough, Dean and his mother were behind him — the former doing the absolute worst job at being stealthy. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?”

Billy pursed his mouth, his eyes darting up as he considered. “Almost.” He brushed more loose hair away from Sam’s face before edging up onto his toes and kissing Sam directly on the lips. In front of everyone.

There was no hesitation from either of them. Sam wasn’t going to be ashamed of their relationship — and it was clear Billy no longer felt the need to be discreet. Sam had survived three years without his family — if they didn’t approve of him and Billy, he would walk away one more time.

Sam cupped the back of Billy’s head with both of his hands, and pushed into the kiss. He wanted badly to draw it out, to lick into Billy’s mouth, and bite and suck at his lips. But he couldn’t forget that his mother was watching.

\---

Dean watched the kiss go on and grumbled, “Do they really have to do that at _my_ wedding?”

“Dean!” Mary admonished. “Don’t be ridiculous. I think it’s sweet.”

“You… you do?”

His mother smiled, continuing to watch Sam and Billy as she nodded. “I do. After everything… it’s just nice to see a smile on Sam’s face. I will support anyone that puts that smile there. And Billy’s been a huge help to you and Castiel. And after everything that happened with his sister… you know he could have sided with her, but he didn’t. I know he might not be your favorite person… but Billy McKenna is a good man.”

Dean snorted. Sam wasn’t a kid anymore, that much was sure. And whatever weird history he had with Billy was just that — history. He looked to the other side of the dance floor where his boyfriend — no, _husband_ — was dancing with their daughter. He had everything he’d never thought he’d be able to have. Why would he wish the possibility of anything less for Sam?

He sneakily guided himself and his mother to Billy’s back, so that Sam was sure to see him when their very public public display of affection ended. He did, and Sam was blushing, but held Dean’s eye contact. It almost felt like a challenge.

One that Dean didn’t need to win. Not this time. He winked at Sam, giving his little brother the warmest, most approving smile he could muster.

\---

They danced until their feet started to ache, and the only lights were those strung up along the inside of the tent. The party was still going strong, but Sam held tight onto Billy’s hand as they stepped off the dance floor and walked towards the head table once more.

Halfway there, a small set of arms wrapped around his legs and Sam looked down to see Brooklyn hugging him with large tears in her eyes. 

“Sammy,” she hiccuped, “Uncle Sammy I gotta potty and can’t find daddy!”

“Oh dear,” Sam sighed dramatically. “Do you want me to take you?”

Brooklyn nodded emphatically, her face scrunched and almost red. Sam took his niece’s hand and said to Billy, “I’ll be right back — wait for me?”

He waited for Billy to nod, and gave him a peck on the cheek, before walking with Brooke out of the tent and back towards the house where the closest bathroom was. He wanted to urge the little girl to hurry, so that he could get back to Billy, but Brooklyn worked on her own time schedule… and was adamant that she could _walk._

“How’s it goin’ in there, Miss B?” Sam knocked gently on the door, a whole six minutes after she’d gotten in there. There was no answer — except for her continued rendition of _‘Shake It Off’_ — but that meant she was just fine. Sam looked at his watch. 11:49. Billy’s flight was leaving at a quarter to six in the morning. If he wanted to get _any_ sleep then he’d have to start thinking about leaving pretty soon. And Sam knew he hadn’t even started packing, either.

He walked across the kitchen to look out the window at the backyard, hoping he could see into the tent from there. Unfortunately he was at the wrong angle to see anything, and it was too dark, and too far. Shaking his head, he moved back over to the bathroom door. Sam was about to knock again, when he realized that the singing had cut off. 

_Uh oh._ He gently tapped on the door before twisting the knob and pushing it open.

In a heap of navy blue taffeta fabric, Brooklyn was spread out on the floor of the bathroom — head resting on her folded arms as she slept soundly.

Perfect. Just… _perfect._

The kid was cute, but the need to get back to Billy was strong. And, as far as he knew, there was no one in the house currently sober enough to watch her. 

He slipped his jacket off before bundling the sleepy kid up in his arms, draping the extra garment over her. He shuffled through the main floor of the house before heading back outside, looking for anyone he could pass his niece off to. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found his mother at the bottom of the back steps, talking with someone’s aunt.

“Mom,” he said, breathless. “Can you take Brooklyn?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Mary passed her drink to the other woman. “Give her here.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’d put her down to bed, but I wanna hang out with Billy as much as I can, you know?”

“Oh, Sam,” Mary said, cradling her granddaughter against her chest. “I think he already left, honey.”

“What?” Panic settled in his gut as he turned to look around the dwindling crowd. It didn’t take long to see that his mom was apparently right. “Why would he—” He shook his head, waving off his mother’s next words as he rushed out of the tent and around the house towards the front yard where the cars had been parked. He scanned for the familiar rental car but couldn’t see it. _Shit._ He tugged at his long hair and spun around in a slow circle. “Billy?”

\---

He called four times — before giving up and shoving his phone back in his pocket. At that point, Sam was aggravated and depressed and went for the easiest solution: alcohol.

Since his family was still busy winding down from the party, he grabbed a half-empty bottle of whiskey and walked past the farmhouse out to the dirt road it sat on. If he had his own car, he would forgo the liquor and drive himself away from there. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that option. 

But he could walk to town if drunk enough. 

“Fucking asshole,” he grumbled as he drank another swig. “How can he claim to have feelings for me and just fucking _leave_ like that?”

How were they going to do the long-distance thing if Billy didn’t even care enough to say goodbye?

Sam made it halfway to town before he was too drunk to keep walking straight. He growled at the stupidity of straight lines as he found a large rock on the side of the road and sat down, placing the empty bottle by his feet.

Now he was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Either he called home to beg someone sober to pick him up — or he slept off the whiskey on the side of the road.

\---

It sounded like an excellent idea — in theory. Leaving while Sam was occupied with Brooklyn so that Billy didn’t have to deal with a heart-wrenching ‘goodbye’. It was a good plan, easily executed without an issue. He drove back to his motel room and made it inside, ready to pack up his things and catch a couple hours sleep before heading for the airport.

Then the pain hit. The longing that was so strong it brought him to his knees. It had only been forty minutes since he’d seen Sam, and Billy was already questioning how exactly he was going to survive the next few months. He settled onto the edge of his bed and pulled his phone out, looking at the missed calls, ignoring them as he flipped to the calendar app.

A quick calculation of items scheduled gave him an exact number.

Seven months and sixteen days.

He would need to survive seven and a half months without seeing Sam’s face. Without kissing the younger man and enjoying the tight squeeze in his chest when Sam smiled _that_ smile.

Seven _fucking_ months. Alone. In Los Angeles.

If he hated L.A. before, now he absolutely _loathed_ its very existence. 

There wasn’t any part of him that wanted to go back. Not alone. What was the point of being there if everything he loved was in Kansas?

Billy turned his head, spotting the rental car keys that he had tossed on the dresser when he’d gotten back. It took only two beats before he was standing, grabbing the keys and his jacket before heading back out the door. 

Once in the car, he drove back towards the farmhouse without hesitation. He needed to see Sam again. He needed Sam to know just how much Billy loved him. 

He was about halfway when he spotted a lone figure slumped on the side of the road. Slowing the car to figure out if the person was okay, Billy felt his stomach sink as he recognized the ponytail of dark brown hair. He pulled off to the side of the road and shut the car off before hopping out. The road was deserted as he crossed the asphalt and ran to where Sam sat.

“Sam? Sam, are you okay?”

“Billy?”

“Yeah, Sam, I’m here.”

“I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“Not okay.” Sam’s words slurred together, and the odor of alcohol was pungent and unmistakable.

Billy noticed the empty whiskey bottle by Sam’s feet and frowned. “I see that. How much did you drink, Sam?”

The younger man hiccuped and shook his head. “Not what’s wrong.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” Sam raised his head and met Billy’s eyes. In the moonlight, it was easy to see the tracks of fallen tears. “You left. You left _me._ ”

_Shit._

“Sam…”

“Jus’ go ‘way,” Sam mumbled, looking back to the ground. “It’s not like you ever fucking loved me, anyways. Just end it now so we don’t have to hurt.”

It was clear Sam wasn’t going to stand — Billy wasn’t sure that he _could_ — so Billy got on his knees in the dirt in front of Sam. “Is _that_ what you think? That I left because I _don’t care?_ ” Billy started to laugh.

Sam looked back up and glared. “ _Yes._ If you cared you wouldn’t run off without a goodbye. Only fucking _cowards_ do that.”

“You’re right. I am a coward. I didn’t … I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want you to see my heart break into a million pieces, okay? Like… like it is now.” Billy heard his own voice crack and it sounded like it was coming from someone else. His eyes felt hot and he scrubbed at them with the back of his hand.

The glare softened as Sam reached out to lay his hand on Billy’s cheek and rub the pad of his thumb beneath Billy’s left eye. “I don’t want you to go,” he whispered.

Billy closed his eyes as he leaned into the touch, closing his hand over Sam’s. “I don’t want to go either.”

“Then… _why are you?_ ”

Billy took a deep sigh as he opened his eyes and looked into Sam’s. He could barely see him in the dark, but there was just enough moonlight to make out his features, to tell that Sam was staring at him in that intense way that only he could. “I… I don’t fucking know.”

Sam waited a moment before dropping his hand and forcing himself up on unsteady feet. He moved around Billy and glanced either direction on the road, before beginning to walk back towards the farmhouse.

Billy rose when Sam did, but didn’t know if he should start walking after him. “Where are you going?”

“Back.”

“Do you… want a ride?”

“No. Just leave, Billy.” Sam threw a wave over his shoulder. “You know you’re going to — so just fucking _leave._ ”

“What if I don’t?”

Sam didn’t answer, just kept walking, only stumbling every few steps.

Billy jogged to catch up to him — damn, the guy had long legs — and walked beside him, holding his arms out in case the taller man actually fell.

Suddenly, without any type of warning, Sam stopped and turned to Billy. “I’m _in love_ with you. Do you know how hard it is to love you and want to be with you… while also needing to be here for my family?” Fresh tears slid down Sam’s face. “If you asked, I would go. Because I’m not sure of who I am without you.”

Billy wanted to take Sam into his arms, then. He wanted to fold him up and never let him go. But at the same time, he wasn’t entirely sure Sam wouldn’t punch him if he tried to touch him. “Sam… I wanted to ask. For you to come with me.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I couldn’t have handled you saying no.”

“Too late now,” Sam mumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued walking. 

“Sam!” Billy reached out a hand and grabbed on the back of Sam’s sleeve — potential punch in the face be damned. “I fucked up, okay? What do I have to do to make it better?”

Rearing around to face Billy, Sam grabbed onto the lapels of Billy’s jacket and pulled him close — so close that their noses were practically touching.

When he spoke, Sam’s voice was dark… and he only muttered one word.

“ _Stay._ ”

“Of course.”

The space between them disappeared as Sam closed the distance and kissed Billy — a little sloppy, a little drunk, but no less meaningful.

“If you’re not careful, Samsquatch,” Billy said, resting their foreheads together, “you’re never gonna be able to get rid of me.”

“Billy,” Sam whispered, “this might be the whiskey talking — but I’m pretty sure I would marry you tomorrow if the opportunity presented itself.”

“Well, this might be the mad, desperate longing talking, but I’m pretty sure I’d say yes.”

\--- **Three Months Later** \---

“We are _not_ putting up puke green curtains in our new house,” Sam growled.

Billy pouted immediately as he looked down at the package he was holding. “But they match the couch I have picked out.”

“Just another reason why you aren’t doing the decorating.” Shaking his head, Sam pushed the shopping cart forward with one hand, while using the other to tickle Brooklyn. Since the wedding, Brooklyn had barely wanted to leave his side at all. It wasn’t much of an issue, though; it mainly meant that he had to buy a carseat to go in the new car his brother had helped him buy.

“Sam, we can’t keep sleeping on a mattress on the floor and using boxes as furniture in the living room. At some point we’re going to want to invite people over.” 

“I wanna come over!” Brooke declared, swatting at Sam’s hand. “Can I come over, Uncle Billy?”

“Doll, you’re over all the time. You have your own room!”

“Oh yeah! I like my room,” she sang happily, swinging her feet to and fro.

They continued moving through the store until they got to the hardware section that had been the whole reason behind the shopping excursion. Sam began scanning the various items — looking for the tools that would help him fix their leaking toilet. Next to him, Billy and Brooklyn began a wild argument over the merits of each Disney princess.

From the end of the aisle, Sam heard a soft gasp and quickly turned to look. He noticed a little old woman with her hand over her heart as she stared at them.

_Great. Another anti-gay speech in the department store,_ Sam thought, turning to focus back on the items before him. He hoped that it would make the woman leave them alone, but knew it was useless when he heard footsteps walking toward them.

A soft hand reached out to touch his bicep and he turned to give the woman a friendly smile. _Kill ‘em with kindness._

“Your family is absolutely adorable, dear. It warms my heart to see a child blessed with two loving parents.” She winked at him and softly patted his arm, before turning to leave. “Keep up the good work.”

Billy smirked at Sam as the woman walked away. He leaned closer and lowered his voice, “Well that settles it, sweetheart. Looks like I’m going to have to knock you up. _Again._ ”

Sam chuckled, kissing Billy's forehead. "I sure don't mind if you keep trying," he said with a wink, pushing their shopping cart down the aisle once more. 

They picked out the required tools with almost no arguing, and got through the check-out with Brooklyn only successfully sneaking one candy bar into their purchases. After they finished loading their things into the car, Billy slammed the trunk closed and turned to Sam.

"You ready to head home?"

Sam looked into those honey eyes, and could only think of one thing to say. "Of course." 

As he walked around the car to the driver’s side door, he contemplated how ‘home’ had gone from a shack in Argentina to a two bedroom bungalow in Kansas. The only thing that made ‘home’ more than a house… was the joy he felt in his heart when he stepped inside the door. 

And the smile on his face when he saw the ones he loved.


End file.
